THE 

GAME 

AND  THE 

CANDLE 

BY     • 

ELEANOR-M 
INGRAM 


THE  GAME  AND  THE  CANDLE 


THE  GAME 
AND  THE  CANDLE 


BY 

ELEANOR  M.   INGRAM 


WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS    BY 

P.  D.  JOHNSON 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE   BOBBS- MERRILL  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


COPYHIGHT  1909 
THE  BOBBS-MEERILI.  COMPANY 


OCTOBER 


PRESS  OF 

BRAUNWORTH  &  CO. 

BOOKBINDERS  AND  PRINTERS 

BROOKLYN,  N.  Y. 


TO  THAT  GRACIOUS  FAMILY 
CIRCLE  OF  WHICH  I  HAVE 
THE  HAPPINESS  TO  BE  ONE 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAOK 

I  THE  DECISION 1 

II  THE  KET  TO  THE  Dooa  .        .        .        .        .  22 

III  His  ROYAL  HIGHNESS 36 

IV  THE  BOND 68 

V  THE  NEW  DAT 79 

VI  "THE  KING  is  DEAD — LONG  LIVE  THE  KING"  96 

VII  ALLEGIANCE 106 

VIII  To  MEET  THE  EMPEROR  .         .         .         .120 

IX  GUINEVERE  or  THE  SOUTH      ....  138 

X  A  STANIEF'S  OWN  ......  151 

XI  In  THE  REGENT'S  STUDY         ....  165 

XII  THE  TURN  IN  THE  ROAD          .        .        .         .188 

XIII  THE  INTERVENTION  OF  ADRIAN        .         .         .  209 

XIV  THE  ORDEAL 219 

XV  AT  THE  GATES  OF  CHANGE      ....  228 

XVI  FIRE  LILIES 248 

XVII  AN  ARABIAN  NIGHT        .         .         .         .         .  253 

XVIII  THE  LAST  WEEK 287 

XIX  ADRIAN'S  DAY       ......  295 

XX  CLOSED .  324 


THE  GAME 
AND  THE  CANDLE 

CHAPTER    I 


'T  T  will  last  about  six  months,"  stated  John 
1  Allard.  "Afterward—" 

His  brother  looked  up  at  him  helplessly. 

"Afterward?"  he  echoed  drearily. 

"Afterward  there  must  be  more.  It  is  not  pos- 
sible, simply  is  not,  for  poverty  to  approach 
Theodora  and  Aunt  Rose.  Look  around  you, 
Robert." 

Under  the  clear  California  moonlight  the  jade- 
green  lawns  and  terraces  dropped  one  below  the 
other  to  the  distant  road.  Through  them  writhed 
the  long  serpentine  drive  and  paths ;  dotted  over 
them  stood  dark  masses  of  flowering  bushes  or 
trees,  with  here  and  there  the  snowy  gleam  of  a 
statue ;  over  all  floated  the  rhythmic  tinkle  of  the 
1 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

central  fountain.  Untroubled  calm  was  the  spirit 
of  the  place,  hereditary  comfort. 

"I  have  looked  so  often,  John.  Yet,  I  find 
nothing." 

"We  must  find  not  a  little  money,  but  a  for- 
tune, and  we  must  find  it  in  six  months,"  John 
answered,  his  low  voice  just  reaching  his  list- 
ener. "There  is  no  way  to  earn  it,  we  know. 
Inside  the  law  there  are  ways  to  acquire  it.  Wall 
Street,  for  instance;  a  new  popular  song  or 
two,  an  inexplicable  conjuring  trick,  or  a  fresh 
breakfast  food.  But  we  have  no  such  talents, 
you  and  I;  we  are  just  the  ordinary  gentlemen 
of  leisure, — dilettanti.  We  are  useless,  within 
the  limits  set  for  us.  Outside  the  limits,  outside 
the  law—" 

The  suggestion  was  left  unfinished,  the  two 
men  falling  silent  before  it.  They  were  young; 
so  young  that  the  morning  mists  of  romance 
still  blurred  the  sharp  landscape  of  reality, 
and  for  the  moment,  daring  appealed  more  than 
endurance. 


THE    DECISION 

"We  could  not  do  anything  low,"  Robert  de- 
murred hesitatingly.  "Not  about  the  mortgages 
or  business  tangles,  John." 

"No,  no,"  John  agreed,  flushing.  "Of 
course  not  that.  I  suppose  there  is  an  honor 
even  in  crime,  a  class  distinction.  Sir  Henry 
Morgan  probably  despised  a  common  thief,  and 
Paul  Clifford  would  not  pick  his  neighbor's 
pocket  at  dinner.  No ;  we  will  pay  our  inherited 
debts,  if  we  have  to  steal  for  it.  What  a  come- 
die-hero'ique!" 

Robert  regarded  him  seriously. 

"You  are  just  playing?"  he  doubted. 

"I  am  not  playing  at  all;  only  looking  at 
things.  For  the  time  left  us  is  not  long.  If  we 
do  nothing,  this  place  will  go,  and  with  it  all 
that  Theodora  and  Aunt  Rose  call  life.  We 
must  then  take  these  women,  Aunt  Rose  an  in- 
valid, Theo  a  spoiled  and  petted  patrician,  to 
some  cheap  city  lodging,  and  there  strive  to  sup- 
port them.  How,  I  haven't  any  idea.  Some  one 
might  employ  us  as  clerks,  possibly.  I  have 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

traveled  all  over  Europe  and  speak  French  and 
Italian ;  that  is  all  my  stock  in  trade,  except  an 
education." 

"Mine  is  less." 

"We  have  wasted  our  time  thoroughly,  if  in- 
nocently. Now  we  pay.  Do  you  wonder  that 
I  look  at  the  outlaw's  path  that  offers  itself?" 

His  brother  moved,  startled. 

"Offers  itself,  John?" 

"Yes;  I  did  not  think  of  this  without  the 
prompting  of  circumstance.  Are  you  dismayed, 
or  shocked?" 

"I  can  not  see  very  clearly,"  Robert  answered 
simply.  "Or,  rather,  I  keep  seeing  the  wrong 
things.  Nothing  dismays  me  to-night  except 
the  idea  of  pain  coming  to  Theo  and  her  mother. 
I  do  not  say  it  should  be  so;  merely  that  it  is. 
We  are  more  ornamental  than  useful,  we  Allards, 
as  you  point  out,  but  we  have  the  art  of  loving. 
I  think  most  people  have  a  less  capacity  for  it ; 
I  believe  it  is  a  certain  intensity  born  with  one — 
a  gift,  a  talent.  And  we  have  it.  Tell  me  more." 


THE    DECISION 

"I  shall  not  tell  you  very  much,  because  the 
work  is  only  for  one  of  us,"  John  said.  "One 
of  us  must  go,  the  other  stay  here  and  live  as  al- 
ways. One  must  still  be  master  of  Sun-Kist, 
still  the  head  of  this  household  of  ours  and  an 
irreproachable  citizen.  He  had  better  not  know 
too  accurately  what  the  one  who  goes  is  doing." 

"John!" 

John  Allard  slipped  impulsively  from  the 
veranda  rail  and  came  to  sit  on  the  arm  of  Rob- 
ert's chair,  drawing  him  into  a  caressing  em- 
brace. 

"I  know;  we've  always  played  together,  dear 
old  fellow.  School  and  college,  and  the  short 
time  since, — the  two  years'  difference  between 
us  got  lost  pretty  early.  But  we  must  learn  to 
go  alone  at  last.  And  if  we  undertake  this  in- 
sanity— for  it  is  little  better — we  must  stand 
without  flinching  all  it  brings.  Is  it  worth 
while?  I  do  not  know,  but  I  know  many  a  man 
has  gone  into  the  underworld  to  protect  a  woman. 
How  many  cashiers  have  misused  funds  entrust- 
5 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

ed  to  them,  how  many  business  men  have  stooped 
to  illegal  methods,  in  order  to  give  their  wives — 
not  necessities,  but  luxuries?  We  see  it  every 
day,  this  cowardice  for  some  one  loved.  Only 
they  do  it  by  degrees,  and  we  do  it  all  at  once." 

Robert  laid  his  hand  over  the  one  on  his 
shoulder. 

"It  does  not  sound  very  pretty,"  he  acknowl- 
edged wistfully.  "It  is  the  old  legend  of  selling 
your  ego  to  Mephistopheles.  Only,  I  wouldn't 
so  much  mind  going  to  Hades  afterward;  it  is 
the  clasping  Mephisto's  smudgy  fingers  that 
hurts." 

"I  am  not  asking  you  to  do  it,  Bertie.  We 
will  just  forget  this  half -hour,  if  you  like.  You 
know  it  was  a  suggestion,  not  a  conviction,  I 
voiced.  You  are  right,  of  course.  But  I  was 
ready  for  rebellion  against  all  laws  to-day;  and 
then  Desmond  came  to  me — " 

"Desmond!  He  is  out  of  prison?" 

"A  week  ago.     He  came  to  me  for  money  to 
go  East.     'Do  you  mind  how  you  and  Master 
6 


THE    DECISION 

Robert  used  to  sneak  away  from  your  nurse  to 
play  with  Tommy,  the  coachman's  boy?'  he  said 
to  me.  'And  now  Tommy  Desmond  is  nursed  by 
the  police  far  and  near.  I  am  a  master  at  my 
trade,  I  am.'  He  has  not  changed  much  since  we 
recognized  him  at  his  trial,  five  years  ago,  and 
tried  to  help  him." 

Robert  turned  to  see  the  face  above  him  in  the 
moonlight. 

"He  said  more  than  that." 

"He  was  very  frank,"  John  answered  lacon- 
ically. 

"Then,  go  on,  please.  I  never  meant  that  we 
should  give  up  the  last  chance  because  it  was 
unpleasant,  or  unsafe.  Theo — she  has  just 
tasted  her  girlhood,  just  commenced  to  live; 
how  can  we  let  her  lose  it  all?  I  would  rather 
smudge  my  fingers  in  saving  her  than  wear  the 
bar  sinister  of  cowardice.  There  are  laws  I 
know  you  will  not  break,  because,  being  yourself, 
you  can  not.  Go  on,  and  tell  me  what  Desmond 
said." 

7 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

A  white  moth,  hunting  some  star  across  the 
dark,  dashed  itself  against  Allard's  coat  and 
hung  quivering  there.  He  paused  to  disentangle 
the  delicate  wings  before  replying,  the  careful 
seriousness  of  the  little  action  in  itself  a  char- 
acterization. 

"There  has  been  shown  to  me  a  way  to  make 
enough  money  to  thrust  poverty  out  of  sight  for 
the  present  and  find  comfort  for  the  future. 
A  way  to  save  Sun-Kist  in  the  short  time  left 
us  to  command.  But  it  is  by  a  crime,  a  crime 
which  the  world  calls  as  ugly  as  forgery.  You 
know  for  what  Desmond  was  punished.  Yet  it  is 
in  a  certain  sense  the  crime  magnificent,  in  that 
one  wrongs  a  government  instead  of  an  individ- 
ual, and  dashes  the  gauntlet  into  the  face  of  the 
state  itself.  It  is  the  crime  that  to  the  least  de- 
gree smudges,  because,  after  all,  it  offers  a  fair 
equivalent  for  value  received." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"The  old  mine  is  no  longer  worth  operating; 
but  there  is  silver  in  small  quantities,"  Allard 
8 


THE    DECISION 

replied  quietly.  "Enough  for  Desmond's  use. 
Naturally,  he  never  dreamed  of  making  such  a 
proposition  to  me.  He  simply  told  me  how  the 
affair  could  be  carried  out,  as  he  told  me  a  dozen 
other  amazing  possibilities  and  reminiscences.  I 
encouraged  him  to  talk,  at  first  merely  to  dull 
the  clamor  of  thought  at  my  inner  ear.  In  the 
end,  I  kept  him  near  here." 

"It's  so  real,  John?" 

"It's  so  real  and  so  possible.  I  have  satisfied 
myself  of  that.  Either  of  us  could  carry  the 
plan  through,  with  Desmond;  but  we  must  real- 
ize that  the  one  who  undertakes  it  steps  out  of 
this  life.  For,  facing  the  fact,  disaster  in  the 
end  is  almost  certain.  The  government  ma- 
chinery is  very  perfect;  he  who  breaks  the  law 
can  scarcely  hope  to  escape  arrest  sooner  or 
later.  And  if  that  happens,  our  world  must 
never  guess.  Whoever  accepts  the  work  must 
leave  here  for  an  indefinite  journey  abroad,  os- 
tensibly; and  in  reality  lose  his  identity  abso- 
lutely somewhere.  The  one  who  goes  must 
9 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

endure  in  silence  whatever  happens ;  the  one  who 
stays — " 

"Go  on." 

"The  one  who  stays,"  John  finished  gently, 
"must  not  interfere  or  try  to  save." 

Robert  shuddered  slightly  and  sat  still  for  an 
instant. 

"It  is  for  the  women,"  he  said,  his  boyish 
voice  quite  steady.  "Shall  we  draw  lots,  or  will 
you  let  me  go  ?" 

"Bertie,  Bertie!"  John  exclaimed,  and,  ris- 
ing abruptly,  walked  to  the  rail. 

When  he  came  back  to  the  seat  beside  his 
brother,  it  was  with  his  face  turned  from  the 
silver  light  pouring  through  the  arches  of  the 
veranda. 

"We  are  spared  the  pain  of  choosing  our 
roles,  Bertie,"  he  declared  with  grave  finality. 
"The  decision  is  not  ours.  Theodora  cares  for 
one  of  us.  Aunt  Rose  admitted  as  much  to  me, 
although  she  herself  could  not  say  which.  Of 
course  that  one  is  the  one  who  stays.  You  see  I 
10 


THE    DECISION 

am  just  taking  it  for  granted  that  we  both  love 
her.  We  have  never  talked  about  it,  but  we  knew, 
I  think." 

"Yes." 

John  waited,  but  no  more  was  volunteered. 

"You  agree  with  me?"  he  at  last  questioned. 

"Oh,  I  suppose  so!"  Robert  flung  savagely. 
"John,  I  am  not  blind;  if  you  propose  this,  it 
is  because  you  are  satisfied  Theo  will  choose  me. 
If  you  sacrifice  everything  to  save  Sun-Kist  for 
the  women,  it  is  because  you  mean  the  sacrifice 
to  be  yourself.  Tell  the  truth;  if  I  were  to  go, 
you  would  refuse  to  carry  out  the  plan." 

"I  said  either  of  us  could  do  the  work." 

"Yes,  but  you  mean  to  do  it  yourself." 

"I  mean  to  leave  the  decision  to  Theodora." 

"Honestly?" 

"Honestly.  And  our  time  is  short,  Robert; 
ask  her  to-night  when  she  comes  home." 

"I  will  not,"  he  refused  flatly.  "Take  your 
right  as  eldest  and  tell  her  your  story  before  I 
tell  mine.  I  will  not  take  that  advantage  of  you. 
11 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

Oh,  if  she  were  only  less  delicate,  less  fastidi- 
ously reared,  less  unable  to  endure  even  vexation ! 
If  we  could  fight  it  out,  you  and  I !" 

"Hush,  hush ;  this  is  the  fight.  We  are  paying 
the  penalty  of  being  fit  for  no  better  battle ;  he 
who  can  use  neither  sword  nor  gun  must  be  sent 
to  dig  in  the  muddy  trenches." 

"We  could  take  care  of  ourselves." 

"Without  doubt,  or  starve  decently.  But  we 
have  to  take  care  of  others." 

"John,  let  me  go." 

"Play  fair,  Bertie." 

"John—" 

"And  Theo?" 

The  younger  dropped  his  head  against  the 
other's  knee. 

"I  think  your  part  will  be  harder  than  mine," 
John  rejoined,  after  a  long  silence.  "It  is  less 
difficult  to  suffer  than  to  watch  another  endure. 
I  can  very  well  believe  we  are  taking  the  wrong 
way,  but  I  do  not  see  a  better.  And  for  the — 
smudge — I  have  one  consolation." 
12 


THE    DECISION 

"That  is,  John?" 

"The  crime  chosen  is  one  the  state  finds  it  ad- 
visable to  condemn  for  reasons  of  policy.  It  is 
not  so  actual  a  wrong  to  our  fellow-men  as  a 
fortune  made  in  Wall  Street  or  in  speculating 
on  their  necessities.  I  am  going  to  break  man's 
regulations,  not  God's  law." 

"I  hope  you  are  right,"  said  Robert  with 
equal  reverence.  "But  you  are  taking  an  un- 
blazed  trail,  and  the  safe  road  lies  far  aside." 

Down  the  smooth  slope  of  the  country-side 
crept  the  vibrating  throb  of  an  automobile,  ac- 
companied by  laughter  and  the  faint  sound  of 
gay  voices.  Some  one  in  the  party  was  singing — 
a  man  whose  clear  tenor  reached  the  two  on  the 
veranda,  filtered  to  purest  pathos  through  the 
veil  of  distance: 

"Sconto  col  sangue  mlo 
L'amor  que  posi  in  tel 
Non  ti  scordar — non  ti  scordar  dl  me — " 

"That  is  Billy  Clive,"  Robert  identified  wear- 
ily. "He  is  an  arrant  humbug,  is  Billy ;  I  do  not 
13 


believe  he  ever  had  a  serious  moment  in  his  life. 
Theo  is  coming;  will  you  speak  to  her?  It  may 
be  you,  after  all,  you  know." 

"I  think  not,  Bertie." 

"But  you  will  try?" 

Through  the  night  air  pierced  the  crescendo 
wail  of  a  horn,  startling  the  insect  choirs  into 
silence  and  waking  a  sleepy  bird  in  the  wistaria 
vines.  Both  men  rose. 

"If  I  must,"  John  yielded.  "Yet  I  have  an 
idea  it  will  not  matter  who  speaks  first,  and  per- 
haps you  are  not  quite  up  to  the  task  to-night. 
Yes,  I  will  try." 

"And  try  fairly.  I,"  as  the  white  lights  of 
the  car  swung  into  the  avenue,  "I  am  going  in." 

Their  hands  met  in  passing,  Robert  turning 
to  the  house  door  and  John  descending  the 
wide  steps  to  greet  the  arrival. 

"The  most  delicious  time,"  pealed  the  sweet, 
high  voice  of  a  girl  above  the  noise  of  the  halted 
automobile.     "Good  night,  Mrs.  Preston.    Until 
to-morrow,  Sue  and  Billy.    Oh,  John,  you !" 
14 


THE    DECISION 

"Come  over  to-morrow,  Allard,"  rang  the 
merry  chorus. 

"Don't  forget  the  hunt." 

"Bring  Robert,  old  man." 

"Adios,  Theo." 

The  car  started  noisily,  and  whirled  down  the 
driveway. 

"I  am  so  tired,"  sighed  the  girl  on  the  steps, 
gathering  up  her  shimmering  skirts  and  throw- 
ing back  the  hood  of  her  cloak.  "Mama  has 
gone  to  bed,  John?  Oh,  and  I  do  want  tea! 
Why  should  I  not  have  tea  at  midnight,  if  I 
like  ?  I  love  to  be  revolutionary." 

"Why  not,  indeed?  Sit  down  there  in  your 
chosen  divan,  my  lady." 

"You  will  bring  me  tea?" 

"Wait  only." 

She  sank  laughing  into  a  chair  and  began  to 
draw  off  her  long  gloves,  watching  him  as  he 
moved  to  the  little  tea-table  in  a  nook  of  the 
veranda.  Allard  possessed  an  almost  feminine 
deftness  at  such  tasks;  perhaps  it  was  as  well 
15 


that  Robert  was  not  busied  with  the   fragile 
china  and  glass  that  evening. 

"It  was  a  nice  dance,"  Theodora  mused  aloud. 
"But  then,  almost  everything  is  nice.  Only  I 
missed  you  and  Robert.  A  dance  without  Robert 
is  like  a  salad  without  cayenne." 

"And  a  salad  with  cayenne?" 

"Is  the  chief  joy  of  life's  dinner." 

He  brought  the  cup  and  she  extended  a  slim, 
jeweled  hand  to  receive  it.  Theodora  had  a 
somewhat  oriental  taste;  odors  of  sandalwood 
and  rose  breathed  from  her  laces,  her  white  wrist 
sparkled  with  slender  bracelets,  and  the  high 
comb  in  her  blonde  hair  held  the  glint  of  gems. 

"Why  do  you  not  laugh  at  my  epigram?"  she 
demanded.  "Thank  you;  I  would  say  you  were 
adorable  if  you  did  not  already  know  it.  Please 
give  me  a  biscuit,  and  give  yourself  some  tea. 
Why  are  you  so  serious  to-night  ?" 

"I  had  something  to  tell  you,  I  think." 

She  waved  a  commanding  spoon. 

"Then  sit  down  and  begin." 
16 


Allard    remained    silent,    regarding   her     Page    17 


THE    DECISION 

But  Allard  remained  silent,  regarding  her.  It 
was  not  easy  to  begin.  Moreover,  the  glamour  of 
the  future  had  fallen  away,  leaving  the  naked 
ugliness;  and  he  was  held  by  a  prescient  cer- 
tainty that  to-night  ended  for  ever  this  gracious 
life. 

"Robert  is  not  up?"  Theodora  queried  pres- 
ently, too  fine  to  insist  on  the  suggested  confi- 
dence. 

"No.    Are  you  sorry,  Theo?" 

Surprised  at  the  tone,  she  glanced  up,  but  the 
shadows  were  heavy  where  he  sat. 

"Why,  yes,  of  course."  And  recovering  her- 
self, "Certainly;  how  could  we  exist  without 
him?" 

"How,  indeed?"  he  echoed,  rather  too  quietly 
for  naturalness.  "Suppose  he  were  to  go  away?" 

"I  should  expire  immediately  of  ennui.  You 
see,  he  and  I  have  a  bond  of  frivolity;  while 
against  you  we  all  lean  for  support.  You  are 
very  supporting,  John;  now,  this  tea,"  she 
laughed  gleefully.  "Robert  probably  would 
17 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

have  pressed  champagne  upon  me,  because  it  is 
less  trouble  to  get." 

"You  might  have  made  tea  yourself,"  he  sug- 
gested, drawing  a  branch  of  the  wistaria  to  shade 
his  face  more  completely. 

"I  hate  to  do  things  for  myself.  I  hope  that 
I  never  will  have  to." 

"I  hope  not.  But  I  promised  to  tell  you  some- 
thing. I  am  going  on  a  trip  to  South  America ; 
part  business,  part  restlessness." 

"You!" 

"Why  not?  I  can  not  play  all  the  time,  you 
know,  not  being  a  girl  myself.  I  may  be  away 
only  a  few  months,  or — much  longer.  But  let 
me  be  quite  frank ;  surely  you  are  aware  Robert 
loves  you,  Theo.  If  I  should  not  be  home  before 
you  are  married,  still  you  will  understand  how 
much  good  I  wish  you  both,  and  remember  that 
I  said  this  now.  Forgive  me  for  speaking  of 
this ;  it  is  ventured  because  I  start  to-morrow." 

She  sat  very  still,  and  he  heard  her  hurried 
breathing  in  the  hush. 

18 


THE    DECISION 

"I  did  not  know  you  meant  that,"  she  said  at 
last,  her  accents  unsure. 

"Or  you  would  not  have  confessed?  Never 
mind  my  blundering  interference,  little  cousin; 
I  have  no  wish  so  dear  as  that  you  two  should 
care  for  each  other.  You  are  not  angry?" 

She  rose  abruptly  to  set  down  the  cup,  the 
shadows  now  a  cloak  for  her. 

"Angry?  Oh,  no;  I  have  never  learned  to  be 
angry  with  you.  I —  It  is  damp  out  here;  I 
must  go  in.  Good  night,  John." 

"Good  night,  Theo,"  he  responded  with  all 
gentleness.  It  was  so  wonderful,  this  exquisite 
timidity,  this  virginal  shyness  that  only  Robert 
should  have  seen.  He  saw  her  quivering  as  she 
passed  him  in  the  moonlight,  her  head  averted. 

But  in  the  doorway  she  turned  back. 

"John,  as  we  entered  the  avenue  to-night, 
there  was  a  man  standing  near  the  olive-trees. 
Mr.  Preston  stopped  the  car  and  called  to  ask 
what  he  did  there.  The  man  answered  that  he 
was  waiting  to  see  you  about  some  gardening 
19 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

work,  but  it  was  so  late  that  you  must  have  for- 
gotten. He  sounded  honest,  but  Mr.  Preston 
bade  me  warn  you,  saying  that  a  man,  once  your 
father's  servant,  had  just  been  released  from 
prison,  and  might  use  a  knowledge  of  Sun-Kist 
to  attempt  burglary.  You  will  be  careful?" 

"I  will  be  careful,"  he  answered  calmly. 
"Thank  you,  dear." 

She  slipped  hurriedly  across  the  threshold,  as 
if  in  escape,  ruthlessly  tearing  her  thin  gown 
upon  the  door-latch.  Allard  wearily  rested  his 
head  against  the  column  behind  him,  and  so 
remained. 

At  the  end  of  an  hour  he  rose  and  went  down 
across  the  moon-blanched  lawns,  walking  stead- 
ily and  directly  toward  the  group  of  olive-trees. 
He  knew  for  what  Desmond  was  waiting,  knew 
what  answer  would  be  given,  and  it  seemed  to 
him  that  he  had  already  severed  the  connection 
between  the  present  and  the  future.  It  seemed 
to  him  that  not  to-morrow,  but  to-night,  he  was 
taking  leave  of  all  things ;  that  the  unblazed  trail 
20 


THE    DECISION 

led  straight  on  from  behind  those  dark  trees  just 
beyond  him. 

The  white  statues  stirred  with  the  wavering 
shadows  as  he  passed ;  the  rich  scent  of  the  tube- 
roses called  as  a  familiar  voice;  like  a  patter  of 
tiny  footsteps  the  ripple  of  the  fountain  fol- 
lowed. 


CHAPTER  H 

THE  KEY  TO  THE  DOOR 

'fTlHE  road  you  called,  and  I  believed  to  be, 
JL  an  unblazed  trail  through  a  grave  forest, 
I  am  beginning  to  see  is  just  the  old  sordid, 
musty  Bridge  of  Sighs  across  which  common 
malefactors  are  led,"  wrote  John  Allard  to 
Robert  three  months  after  his  departure  from 
Sun-Kist.  "But  if  we  can  agree  with  Brown- 
ing's dictum,  there  is  a  certain  virtue  simply  in 
keeping  on  at  a  task  assumed,  even  if  the  end  be 
questionable.  And  I  am  keeping  on.  Do  not 
fancy  I  am  saying  this  to  trouble  you,  or  in 
weak  regret.  All  is  going  better  than  we  dared 
hope,  as  you  know;  and  I  see  no  danger  near, 
at  present.  No ;  it  is  only  that  I  have  been  fear- 
ing I  gave  you  some  edged  doctrines;  do  not 
close  your  hand  upon  them,  for  they  cut.  You 
can  not  write  to  me,  of  course,  since  you  do  not 
22 


THE    KEY    TO    THE    DOOR 

know  where  I  am.  Nor  shall  I  myself  write 
again,  even  with  this  guarded  and  unsigned  pre- 
caution. When  this  venture  ends,  I  am  going 
away  from  America;  I  think  I  shall  enlist  in 
France's  Foreign  Legion.  Not  because  I  am 
afraid,  but  because  I  want  to  work.  Yet,  in 
spite  of  success,  it  seems  to  me  that,  like  Saxon 
Harold,  I  hear  a  cry  in  the  night:  'Sanguelac, 
the  arrow,  the  arrow!' ' 

There  was  nothing  in  the  quiet,  sun-filled,  lit- 
tle hut  nestled  on  the  mountain-side,  to  indicate 
that  here  rested  one  end  of  the  Ponte  degli  Sos- 
piri.  Yet  to  one  of  the  two  men  here  at  bay,  the 
dark  bridge  arched  away  as  a  thing  visible. 

A  siege  had  been  held  there  all  the  June  after- 
noon, until  now  this  grateful  lull  had  fallen, — a 
siege  whose  tale  was  punctuated  with  the  snap 
of  bullets,  the  crash  of  loosened  stones  down  the 
cliff,  and  the  shouts  of  men  below.  No  one  yet 
had  ventured  on  the  steep,  narrow  path  winding 
up  to  the  hut,  although  there  was  but  one  de- 


THE    GAME   AND   THE    CANDLE 

fender,  and  so  far  the  battle  had  been  bloodless. 
But  neither  the  big  Irishman  leaning  by  the 
door,  nor  John  Allard,  lying  helpless  on  a 
rough  cot,  had  any  doubt  of  the  final  result. 
They  were  simply  waiting  fop  the  end  to 
come. 

"Desmond,  have  you  hurt  any  of  them?" 
Allard  asked  suddenly,  rousing  himself  from  a 
reverie  bordering  on  stupor. 

"I  have  not,"  answered  the  other  in  accents 
just  touched  with  Hibernian  softness.  "But  I 
am  thinking  they  will  not  come  up  until  dusk. 
Bird  shot  scatters." 

"Our  own  men  have  gone  safely  ?" 

"They  have.  And  if  you  had  not  slipped 
through  that  hole  in  the  old  floor  and  broken 
your  ankle—" 

Allard  raised  himself  on  his  elbow.  Fever  lent 
an  artificial  brightness  to  his  firm  young  face 
and  shadowed  gray  eyes,  the  waving  chestnut 
hair  clung  boyishly  around  a  forehead  which 
had  acquired  one  straight  line  between  the  brows 


THE    KEY    TO    THE    DOOR 

during  the  five  months  since  he  had  left  Sun- 
Kist. 

"You  should  not  have  stayed,  Desmond,"  he 
said  earnestly.  "You  can  not  help  me;  I  have 
my  own  way  out  of  this.  You  must  go  now,  at 
least,  and  try  the  mountain.  I  ask  you  to  go." 

"And  if  I  do,  it  must  be  at  dusk.  Look  out 
that  door ;  not  a  cloud  or  a  shade — and  me  with 
a  hundred  yards  of  bare  mountain-side  to  cross. 
Lie  easy,  sir." 

"Desmond!" 

"Oh,  it's  a  word  slipped!  Old  times  are  close 
enough  for  their  ways  to  come  to  my  tongue  in 
the  rush." 

Allard  shook  his  head,  but  sank  back  upon  the 
pillow  and  let  his  gaze  go  out  the  open  door 
opposite.  Far  below,  the  silver  and  azure  Hud- 
son widened  into  the  Tappan  Zee,  set  in  purple 
and  emerald  hills  which  curved  softly  away  to 
the  distant  outposts  of  the  Palisades.  Fair  and 
tranquil,  warmly  palpitating  under  the  summer 
sunshine,  the  scene  was  cruel  in  its  placid  indif- 
25 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

ference  to  the  struggle  here  upon  the  cliff-like 
mountain.  The  very  breeze  that  fluttered  in 
brought  taunting  perfumes  of  cedar  and  blos- 
som from  a  country-side  out  of  reach;  poised 
airily  between  earth  and  sky,  a  snowy  sea-gull 
flaunted  its  unvalued  liberty.  Sighing,  the  Cal- 
if ornian  dropped  the  curtain  of  his  lashes  before 
a  world  no  longer  his.  He  had  been  so  near  safe- 
ty, the  arrow  had  been  held  so  long  upon  the 
cord,  that  disaster  came  now  with  a  double  keen- 
ness of  stroke. 

"Desmond,"  he  said,  after  a  pause,  "we  have 
nothing  to  do  with  old  times  or  titles.  I  can 
trust  your  will,  I  know ;  but  do  not  let  your  mem- 
ory betray  me.  I  mean,  words  must  not  slip.  I 
hope  you  are  going  to  get  out  of  this  safely;  I 
can  not,  of  course.  After  my — capture,"  a  curi- 
ous expression  flickered  across  his  face,  "no  mat- 
ter how  things  end,  you  may  count  that  I  will 
say  nothing  of  you  or  the  others.  Will  you,  at 
all  times  in  the  future,  remember  that  I  am  just 
Leroy  ?" 


THE    KEY    TO    THE    DOOR 

"I  will,"  the  big  man  replied  briefly.  "And 
the  others  don't  know  anything." 

"No;  there  is  only  you.  You  it  would  not 
help  if  the  truth  were  made  public ;  it  would  only 
excite  more  attention.  You  yourself  do  not  want 
your  former  record  connected  with  your  stay 
here.  If  you  escape,  you  will  be  free  and  com- 
paratively rich;  leave  me  my  secret,  Desmond; 
I  shall  have  nothing  else." 

"You  needn't  worry  about  me,"  Desmond  re- 
assured, his  eyes  on  the  ribbon  of  path  that  was 
visible.  "It  might  be  better,  I'm  thinking,  to 
do  the  worrying  about  how  you'll  come  out  of 
this." 

"Fiat  justicia,"  Allard  returned,  with  a  cool 
endurance  quite  free  from  bitterness.  "Or,  more 
intelligibly,  I  must  pay  for  my  cakes  and  ale. 
Only  carry  your  part  through,  and  do  not  talk." 

"You  needn't  worry.  There's  a  man  around 
that  big  boulder  down  there!  Will  I  have  to 
shoot  bird  seed  at  his  legs,  I  wonder?" 

"Not  if  you  can  avoid !" 
27 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

"Oh,  I'm  not  playing  at  it;  rest  easy.  And 
don't  fear  they'll  be  believing  it's  you.  When 
they  find  me  gone  and  you  not  able  to  stand, 
they'll  guess  who  was  shooting.  I'll  put  all  the 
guns  beyond  your  reaching  them,  to  help,  before 
I  go  to-night." 

"No!" 

The  swift  monosyllable  fell  with  an  energy 
that  brought  Desmond's  glance  at  once  to  the 
speaker. 

"I  shall  want  my  revolver,"  Allard  added  more 
quietly.  "I  might  need  it." 

"Just  so,"  assented  the  other,  regarding  him 
oddly,  and  presently  returned  to  his  guard  of 
the  door. 

There  was  a  long  silence.  Gradually  the  Huf- 
fily piled  clouds  in  the  west  became  tinged  with 
ruddy  gold,  clouds  which  bore  a  fanciful  resem- 
blance to  Elysian  mountain  peaks,  as  if  heaped 
so  in  sport  by  some  imitative  baby  Titan  who 
had  patterned  them  from  the  hills  below.  Sun- 
set was  at  hand,  and  from  its  brightness  Allard 
28 


THE    KEY   TO    THE    DOOR 

wearily  averted  his  face.  Suffering,  mental  and 
physical,  keyed  his  nerves  to  exquisite  sensitive- 
ness ;  a  passionate  desire  for  darkness  and  silence 
possessed  him. 

Suddenly  the  roaring  crash  of  the  huge  shot- 
gun set  the  cottage  vibrating,  and  echoed  heav- 
ily back  and  forth  among  the  cliffs. 

"It's  only  to  scare  them,"  explained  Desmond, 
as  his  companion  started  up.  "But  I  doubt  they 
will  wait  past  dusk.  And  we  needed  just  one 
week  more!" 

"You  mean  they  will  rush  the  place  by  day- 
light? You  will  go  now?" 

"I  need  the  dusk  more  than  they  do.  Still,  I 
won't  wait  long.  You — shall  I  get  you  water? 
— you  moved  too  quick !" 

"It  is  nothing,"  Allard  panted.  But  he  drank 
gratefully  from  the  tin  dipper,  nevertheless,  and 
in  returning  it  searched  with  gentler  eyes 
the  hard,  intelligent  countenance  of  the  giver. 
"It  is  nothing  I  can  not  face,  all  this,  if  I  can 
be  certain  you  will  keep  silence." 
29 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

"I  will,"  he  said,  and  walked  back  to  the  door 
in  cautious  vigilance. 

Allard  lay  still.  Evening:  Theodora  would 
be  on  the  veranda  in  her  pretty  dinner  gown, 
perhaps  with  a  flower  tucked  over  her  little  ear 
in  the  Spanish  fashion  she  mimicked,  if  this 
were  home.  Aunt  Rose  would  be  reading  in  her 
favorite  chair,  Robert  lounging  near  them  and 
pouring  out  his  usual  flood  of  sparkling  gaiety 
and  nonsense.  Allard  smiled  tenderly  and  with 
a  touch  of  defiance;  after  all,  he  had  won  the 
battle  fought  for  them,  had  carried  out  the  task 
set,  before  to-day's  ruin  overtook  him.  More- 
over, he  had  his  own  way  of  escape,  resolved 
upon  since  the  first.  He  almost  could  be  content. 

"It's  growing  dark,"  broke  in  Desmond's 
voice  after  a  time.  "I'm  thinking  they'll  be  mak- 
ing that  rush  mighty  soon.  I'd  give  something 
to  take  you  along,  instead  of  having  to  climb 
like  a  cat  up  the  bluff." 

Allard  roused  himself. 

"Not  possible!  You  should  have  gone  with! 
30 


THE    KEY    TO    THE    DOOR 

the  rest  instead  of  being  here  now."  He  held 
out  his  hot  hand  for  the  other's  clasp.  "Good-by, 
Desmond.  Without  you  this  thing  would  never 
have  worked  at  all." 

"It's  not  so.  Many  a  time  this  game  has  been 
tried  and  has  fallen  through  half-way ;  and  it's 
not  thousands  are  made  at  it.  You  did  it,  with 
the  gentleman's  brain  and  knowledge  and  wit. 
Not  that  it  matters  now." 

"Not  very  much.  You  are  forgetting  my  re- 
volver." 

"No,  I  am  not  forgetting.  You  will  not  need 
it."  He  turned  away  to  add  the  last  one  to  the 
pile  of  weapons  in  the  opposite  corner. 

Allard  rose  on  his  arm,  his  eyes  flashing  wide 
and  keen. 

"You  have  no  idea  what  I  need,  Desmond. 
Give  me  that  revolver." 

"You  would  shoot  no  one,  and  it  would  be  of 
no  use." 

"Desmond,  we  have  been  friends;  give  me 
that." 

31 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

"I  can't,"  he  answered  sullenly. 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  I  know  for  what  you  want  it,  sir." 

Allard  flung  back  his  head  and  confronted  the 
defiant  face  opposite  with  the  fevered  anger  of 
his  own. 

"And  if  so,  is  it  your  affair?  Have  you,  you 
who  have  ied  your  life,  grown  sentimental?  You, 
who  know  from  where  I  come  and  to  where  I  am 
going, — you  will  interfere?  You  are  wasting 
our  time ;  give  me  my  revolver,  and  go." 

But  the  other  made  no  move,  although  send- 
ing an  anxious  glance  through  the  doorway. 

"One  gets  out  of  prison,"  he  said  obstinately, 
"as  I've  tried  myself.  But  that  that  you  mean 
— there's  no  coming  back.  You  are  over  young 
for  that,  sir." 

"You  have  been  paid  for  helping  me,"  Allard 
retorted,  his  voice  savage  with  pain,  "not  for 
teaching  me  philosophy.  Go  take  your  liberty, 
if  you  can,  and  leave  me  mine.  There  is  one  door 
out  for  me,  and  one  key.  I  trusted  you ;  I  might 


THE    KEY    TO    THE    DOOR 

have  kept  the  thing  with  me  if  I  had  imagined 
this." 

Desmond  flushed,  but  turned  coolly. 

"I'll  go,  it's  time.  If  I  was  paid  for  helping, 
I  gave  the  help.  I  never  was  paid  for  this  you 
are  asking." 

"Desmond,  Desmond,  you  leave  me  so !" 

He  turned  on  the  threshold,  a  square,  obsti- 
nate figure  against  the  violet  twilight. 

"I'd  never  do  it,"  he  said  quite  gently,  "if  I 
didn't  know  you'd  thank  me  some  day." 

"Desmond — " 

"Good-by,  sir." 

"Desmond — " 

The  doorway  was  empty ;  the  evening  serenata 
of  a  robin  filled  the  hush.  Allard's  head  sank  on 
his  arm  in  the  darkest  moment  of  the  last  somber 
months. 

But  presently  he  looked  up  again.  Still  dressed 

as  when  the  accident  had  happened  a  few  hours 

before,  he  possessed  a  tiny  box  of  cartridges, 

and  only  the  width  of  the  room  separated  him 

33 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

from  his  desire.  He  impulsively  tossed  aside 
the  blanket  and  slipped  to  the  floor. 

The  fall  drew  a  gasp  of  pain.  All  before 
faded  to  insignificance  beside  the  anguish  of 
movement.  It  was  not  the  ankle  only;  the  in- 
jury had  gone  farther  than  that.  Colorless, 
catching  his  breath  with  difficulty,  Allard 
dragged  himself  inch  by  inch  toward  the  goal. 

Desmond  was  almost  forgotten  when  the  first 
shot  on  the  mountain-side  rang  out.  Startled 
from  the  mists  of  suffering,  Allard  paused  an 
instant.  Then  as  a  very  fusillade  reverberated 
among  the  cliffs,  he  toiled  on  with  redoubled 
haste.  They  would  come  next  for  him. 

It  had  a  pearl  and  silver  handle,  that  revolver. 
He  had  treasured  it  because  it  was  a  gift  from 
Robert,  and  a  souvenir  too  frequently  duplicated 
to  betray  his  identity.  Now  the  pearl  shone  a 
glistening  spot  in  the  surrounding  grayness, 
beckoning,  tantalizing.  It  was  so  far  across  the 
room,  so  very  far ! 

Shots  again!  He  struggled  yet  more  des- 
34 


THE    KEY    TO    THE    DOOR 

perately,  and  the  resulting  pang  brought  waves 
of  faintness  above  his  head.  If  he  could  only 
rest,  so. 

Some  one  was  shouting,  half  exultantly,  half 
fearfully,  and  other  voices  replied  in  equal  ex- 
citement. Some  one  was  killed,  they  were  say- 
ing, had  fallen  from  the  cliff.  Desmond,  per- 
haps? Allard  roused  himself  fiercely  and  saw 
with  gratitude  how  near  the  coveted  object  lay. 
A  little  farther,  only  a  little ;  but  it  cost. 

The  rush  and  patter  of  feet  grew  louder, — 
the  steady  approach  of  the  hunters.  It  hardly 
mattered,  for  the  cool  white  handle  was  in  the 
grasp  of  his  outstretched  hand.  He  had  won, 
won  doubly.  He  had  accomplished  his  task,  and 
he  held  the  key  to  the  door.  Robert's  face  leaned 
toward  him,  warm  with  relief  and  praise ;  Theo- 
dora was  in  the  room,  bringing  fragrances  of 
sandalwood  and  rose — 

Once  more  he  drove  back  the  mists  and 
dragged  the  revolver  to  him,  smiling,  but  with 
knit  brows. 

35 


CHAPTER  III 

HIS  KOYAL  HIGHNESS 

THEY  looked  at  each  other  steadily,  the  dis- 
tinguished visitor  and  the  prisoner  who 
polished  a  brass  railing.  Beside  them  an 'official 
was  droning  a  particularly  monotonous  and 
dreary  account  of  the  institution,  his  eyes  half- 
closed  with  the  mental  exertion  of  recollection, 
his  thoughts  turned  inward  and  absorbed.  There 
were  several  gentlemen  and  officers  of  the  build- 
ing in  the  bare  room,  chatting  with  one  another 
in  varying  degrees  of  boredom  and  interest,  and 
completely  ignoring  the  quiet  prisoner  who  had 
been  John  Allard.  Yet  he  was  perhaps  the  only 
one  present,  with  the  exception  of  the  man  fac- 
ing him,  who  escaped  the  commonplace. 

"You  have  something  to  say?"  questioned  the 
grave,  lustrous  dark  eyes  of  the  visitor;  eyes 


southern  in  their  long-lashed  softness,  northern 
in  their  directness. 

And  Allard's  gray  eyes  returned  assent  with 
an  utter  calm  which  overlay  the  surface  of  trag- 
edy. 

"On  the  east  bank  of  the  Hudson,  six  miles 
above  Tarrytown,"  went  on  the  droning  voice 
of  the  official,  then  broke  as  the  visitor's  cool, 
slightly  imperious  tones  fell  across  the  mono- 
logue : 

"Ah,  and  is  it  permitted  to  speak  with  your  in- 
mates, if  one  has  the  fancy?" 

The  official  stared,  but  smiled  vaguely. 

"Certainly,  sir ;  if  you  wish,"  he  replied. 

Again  the  eloquent  glances  of  the  other  two 
crossed. 

"You  have  much  of  this  work?"  queried  the 
visitor,  the  words  scarcely  heeded  either  by 
speaker  or  listener  in  the  deeper  search  for  a 
means  of  communication. 

Allard  answered  in  French,  the  fluent,  barely- 
accented  French  of  a  traveled  American : 
37 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

of  boyish  frolic  at  Palermo ;  do  you  know  who  I 
am?" 

"No  more  than  I  knew  then :  that  you  were  a 
European,  and  evidently  of  position." 

"You  have  more  liberty  than  some  of  those 
here,  I  think." 

"Yes;  I  am  what  they  call  a  trusty;"  the 
straight  line  between  the  fine  brows  deepened 
markedly. 

"I  beg  your  pardon ;  I  do  not  ask  from  curios- 
ity. My  yacht  is  anchored  before  this  place — if 
I  return  through  here  in  an  hour,  on  my  way  to 
it,  can  you  be  here  still?" 

Allard  hesitated. 

"I  believe  so,  but  I  would  prefer  not.  I  can 
aid  you  no  further ;  and — " 

"And?" 

For  an  instant  the  curtain  was  withdrawn 
from  the  prisoner's  clear  eyes. 

"You  wake  what  is  better  asleep.  It  is  not 
pleasant  for  me  to  meet  you,  monsieur." 

The  visitor  caught  his  breath.  It  came  to  him 
40 


HIS    ROYAL    HIGHNESS 

with  a  shock  of  realization  that  many  days  and 
nights  might  pass  before  he  could  forget  that 
straight  glance  of  quivering  pain  and  humilia- 
tion, of  proudly  endured  hopelessness. 

"Yet  I  ask  it,"  he  insisted. 

"Very  well.  If  I  am  not  here  it  will  be  because 
it  was  not  possible." 

The  visitor  turned  away  with  well-assumed 
carelessness. 

"I  fancied  your  prisoner  there  was  a  fellow- 
countryman,"  he  remarked  to  the  official,  in  pass- 
ing on.  "But  he  appears  to  be  French." 

"Yes,  sir.  He  said  he  came  from  the  South,  at 
his  trial." 

The  man  had  necessarily  kept  beside  the  vis- 
itor to  reply,  and  they  walked  down  the  room 
so  together. 

"What  is  he  here  for?"  came  the  idle  inquiry. 

"Counterfeiting,    sir.     Right    over    on    that 

mountain  across  the  river,  they  captured  him  and 

killed  one  of  his  comrades.  The  rest  got  away  in 

time,  and  they  never  were  found  because  this 

41 


TOE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

man  would  tell  nothing,  even  to  save  himself.  He 
might  have  turned  state's  evidence  and  got  off 
with  a  light  sentence,  for  he  was  young  and  not 
known  to  the  police.  But  he  wouldn't  and  he  got 
the  whole  thing.  Leroy,  his  name  is.  The  offi- 
cers who  captured  him  believe  he  never  meant  to 
be  taken  alive ;  for  they  found  him  unconscious, 
with  a  little  pistol  in  his  hand,  and  they  guessed 
that  he  fainted  before  he  could  use  it.  He  had 
to  spend  weeks  in  a  hospital  before  he  could  be 
tried,  getting  over  a  broken  ankle  and  some  other 
worse  injuries.  But  he  and  his  fellows  had  done 
clever  work,  no  one  knows  how  much.  This  Leroy 
might  have  been  from  across  the  water,  as  you 
say,  sir ;  no  one  knows  him  here." 

"How  long  has  he  been  here  ?" 

"Two  years,  sir." 

"And  his  sentence?" 

"Fifteen." 

The  visitor  shuddered  involuntarily.  Pleased 
by  his  interest,  the  official  brightened  to  offer 
further  diversion: 

42 


HIS    ROYAL    HIGHNESS 

"If  you'll  come  to  the  inner  building,  sir,  I  can 
show  you  some  more.  We've  some  in  for  life — " 

"Thank  you,"  the  visitor  refused  bruskly,  and 
moved  aside  to  rejoin  his  companions. 

The  little  group  fell  silent  and  expectant  at 
the  approach  of  the  one  whose  escort  they  were. 
It  was  rather  a  brilliant  group  against  the  som- 
ber prison  background.  Dancla,  "the  man  in 
gray"  of  Allard's  warning,  was  the  only  mem- 
ber not  in  uniform,  with  the  exception  of  the 
distinguished  visitor  himself. 

"I  am  going  into  the  town,"  their  chief  an- 
nounced, pausing  before  them,  "with  Dancla. 
You  may  return  to  the  yacht.  Vasili,  send  the 
launch  for  me  in  an  hour.  Ah,  and  leave  on  that 
bench  by  the  door  my  rain  coat;  I  fancy  it  will 
be  storming  before  we  return.  You  understand?" 

"Perfectly,  your  Royal  Highness,"  responded 
Vasili,  a  trim,  blond  young  aide-de-camp  with  a 
most  ingenuous  smile.  He  spoke  in  French,  as 
did  all  the  party. 

"I  alone  have  the  honor  of  accompanying  your 


Royal  Highness?"  Dancla  asked,  not  without  a 
shade  of  uneasiness. 

The  velvet  black  eyes  of  his  chief  passed  over 
him  deliberately. 

"You  alone ;  come." 

They  went  out,  attended  by  the  prison  officials, 
past  the  prisoner  still  at  work.  Laughing  and 
chatting,  the  rest  of  the  party  walked  down  the 
room  to  the  door  nearest  the  river.  The  place 
left  seemed  darker  for  their  going,  the  silence 
more  profound  after  their  gay  voices. 

<<rWe  knew  each  other  very  well  five  years 
ago—" 

When  the  patient  has  apparently  reached  the 
climax  of  suffering,  when  the  very  excess  of  pain 
brings  a  relief  of  numbness,  Fate  the  Inquisitor 
occasionally  finds  amusement  in  devising  a  fresh 
form  of  putting  the  question.  Upon  Allard  was 
forced  the  San  Benito  of  renewed  recollection. 

Nearly  five  years  before,  John  Allard,  in  all 
his  gay  insouciance  of  twenty-one  years,  had 
44 


HIS    ROYAL    HIGHNESS 

spent  an  hour  on  the  quay  at  Palermo  to  enjoy 
the  limpid  Sicilian  night.  Alone  at  first,  he  was 
presently  joined  by  a  young  officer  with  whom 
he  had  crossed  from  Italy  a  few  days  before  and 
formed  a  slight  shipboard  acquaintance.  Know- 
ing nothing  of  each  other,  there  had  nevertheless 
sprung  into  life  between  them  that  curious  sym- 
pathy and  friendliness  which  can  be  born  of  ex- 
changed glances,  meeting  smiles ;  that  sudden 
inexplicable  liking  which  can  make  two  passing 
strangers  turn  to  gaze  wistfully  after  each  other 
and  vaguely  resent  the  trick  of  chance  that  has 
set  their  feet  in  opposite  paths.  It  is  one  of  the 
common  phenomena  of  existence,  but  it  was  new 
to  Allard,  and  perhaps  new  to  his  companion  as 
well. 

They  sat  side  by  side  while  evening  melted 
into  night,  starlight  into  late  moonrise;  and 
they  chatted  of  everything  tangible  and  intan- 
gible suggested  by  the  place  and  the  time.  But 
they  did  not  touch  the  personal  note  until  the 
cathedral  chimes  were  pealing  midnight. 
45 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

"I  must  go  back,"  commented  the  European 
wearily.  "I  have  had  my  last  day." 

"Your  last  day !"  Allard  echoed,  startled. 

"Of  freedom,  yes.  I  was  promised  a  month's 
vacation ;  a  month  to  spend  as  I  chose,  but  I  have 
good  reason  to  know  the  promise  has  been  re- 
voked. Oh,  not  for  any  cause, — just  my  uncle's 
whim.  He  is  fond  of  playing  with  me  so." 

"Do  you  always  do  what  he  says?"  queried 
young  America  incredulously. 

"I  have  that  habit ;  it  is  safer,  and  more  vir- 
tuous. Still,  virtue  palls  when  its  reward  is  in- 
visible. When  I  go  back  to  the  hotel,  Petro  will 
hand  me  a  telegram  demanding  my  return  to  the 
Empire." 

"Then  I  would  not  go  back  to  the  hotel,"  was 
the  blithe  suggestion.  "Run  before  you  are  told 
to  stay.  Come  share  my  bachelor  hut  and  let 
Rome  vociferate  for  a  while." 

"You  are  not  in  earnest,"  said  the  other,  turn- 
ing to  look  at  him  with  an  odd,  eager  surprise. 

Allard  had  not  been,  but  he  adopted  his  own 
46 


HIS    ROYAL    HIGHNESS 

idea  with  the  light-hearted  impulsiveness  of  his 
bel  age. 

"Why  not?  My  people — my  brother  and  aunt 
and  cousin — have  gone  for  a  glimpse  of  Ger- 
many ;  and  I  have  stayed  here  to  cram  for  my 
last  year  of  college.  I  have  a  delicious  miniature 
villa  five  miles  out  of  town,  which  I  have  taken 
until  their  return,  and  which  is  a  thousand  times 
too  big  for  me  alone.  Come  stay  out  your  vaca- 
tion with  me.  If  your  uncle  promised  you  a 
month,  he  can  not  complain  if  you  take  it.  It  is 
not  your  fault  if  you  do  not  receive  his  old  tele- 
gram." 

"No.  I  am  not  supposed  to  know  it  is  com- 
ing." 

"Well,  then,  why  not  come?  Send  a  note  to 
your  servant  at  the  hotel,  and  tell  him  you  are 
visiting  a  friend.  He  will  have  to  telegraph  your 
uncle  that  you  are  not  to  be  found." 

The  European  stood  up  and  looked  out  across 
the  shining  water. 

"I  am  nearly  twenty-seven  years  old,"  he 
47 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

stated,  "and  I  have  never  In  my  life  had  one  week 
of  my  own.  If  you  are  serious,  I  will  do  this." 

"Of  course  I  am  serious.  We  will  have  the 
time  of  both  our  lives.  Come,"  the  spirit  of  ad- 
venture in  his  veins,  "you  can  write  your  note  in 
that  trattoria  over  there,  and  pay  a  boy  to  take 
it.  We  shall  then  make  a  straight  dash  for  Villa 
Giocosa." 

"You  do  not  know  me,  and  I  can  not  tell  you 
my  name  without  spoiling  all.  If  I  tell  you,  we 
can  not  ignore  it,  try  as  we  may." 

Allard  paused,  then  laughed  out  in  sheer  de- 
light at  the  situation. 

"I  forgot  all  about  names ;  I  believe  you  do  not 
know  mine,  for  that  matter.  But  come  incognito, 
if  you  choose.  I  will  even  play  host  incognito, 
if  that  will  arrange  matters.  Monsieur,  my 
Christian  name  is  John." 

Youth,  and  the  South,  and  the  romance- 
freighted  Sicilian  night ! 

"You  are  very  good,"  said  the  other  simply. 
"I  am  called  Feodor." 

48 


HIS    ROYAL    HIGHNESS 

They  went  home  to  Villa  Giocosa. 

The  three  weeks  which  followed  were  a  charm- 
ing and  graceful  incident  to  Allard,  an  interlude 
in  his  happy,  pleasantly-filled  life.  What  they 
were  to  his  companion,  the  American  did  not 
realize  until  long  afterward.  The  two  young 
men  read  or  lounged  together  in  the  mossy  gar- 
den, boated  on  the  placid  sea,  talked  and  smoked 
through  the  tranquil  evenings  in  the  perfection 
of  comradeship.  But  they  kept  the  playful  in- 
cognito, calling  each  other  Don  John  and  Don 
Feodor  in  the  pretty  Italian  custom  of  the  island 
where  they  met.  Yet  there  was  a  difference,  for 
the  frank  and  communicative  Allard  soon  laid 
all  his  past  and  present  open  to  view,  while  the 
other  never  spoke  of  himself. 

"How  much  you  know !"  exclaimed  Allard,  one 
day  when  Don  Feodor  came  to  the  aid  of  the  col- 
lege man  and  passed  from  complicated  subject 
to  subject  with  the  light  surety  of  a  master  of 
each. 

"I  ought  to  know  something;  I  have  been 
49 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

trained  in  a  school  that  concedes  no  rest,"  was 
the  composed  reply. 

The   idyl   ended   abruptly.     One   sun-gilded, 
flower-scented   noon,   a  messenger  was  ushered 
into  the  villa  garden.   In  silence  Don 
cepted  and  read  the  letter  brought, 
wrote  and  gave  to  the  bearer  his  answer.    And 
then  he  turned  to  his  dismayed  host. 

"They  have  found  me,"  he  said  quietly.  "Of 
course  you  can  not  realize  how  I  shall  remember 
this  time ;  you  are  too  happy." 

That  was  all.  But  Allard  had  remembered 
also;  remembered  the  breathless,  hot  hush  of 
noon,  the  heavy  perfume  of  orange-  and  lemon- 
blossoms,  as  they  shook  hands  in  the  old  garden, 
and  the  sense  of  boyish  desolation  with  which  the 
farewell  had  left  him. 

"We  knew  each  other  very  well,  five  years 
ago—" 

The  prisoner  bent  his  head  over  his  work,  set- 
ting his  white  teeth  in  his  lip  until  his  mouth  was 
bitter  with  the  taste  of  his  own  blood. 
50 


HIS    ROYAL    HIGHNESS 

The  short  spring  day  drew  toward  its  close. 
The  threatened  storm  marshaled  its  gray  col- 
umns down  the  river,  a  sighing  rain  whispered 
around  the  building  of  sorrows.  Very  early, 
shore  and  water  alike  blended  into  vague,  inde- 
terminate dusk. 

Rather  less  than  the  hour  fixed  had  elapsed 
when  the  distinguished  visitor,  who  had  once 
worn  the  name  of  Don  Feodor  instead  of  that 
journalistic  title,  reentered  the  upper  end  of  the 
hall.  He  came  accompanied  only  by  the  same 
stolid  official  as  before ;  Dancla  had  disappeared. 

Opposite  the  prisoner  he  paused  to  light  a 
cigarette,  then  hesitated,  looking  from  him  to  the 
little  gold  case  in  his  own  hand. 

"I  am  going  out  again  with  this  officer,"  he 
said  in  French,  his  casual  tone  excellently 
feigned.  "Go  to  that  river  door,  put  on  the  coat 
lying  upon  the  bench  and  the  cap  you  will  find 
in  a  pocket,  then  walk  slowly  to  the  barred  gate 
and  wait  for  me.  When  I  come,  salute  me  and 
follow." 

51 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

Allard  stiffened  to  rigidity,  his  eyes  seeking 
the  other's. 

"I  am  guilty  of  what  they  accuse ;  do  you  still 
wish  this  ?"  he  demanded. 

There  was  something  more  than  admiration  in 
the  visitor's  smile. 

"Did  you  question  me  in  Palermo,  or  did  you 
accept  caste  as  enough?  Yes,  I  wish  it."  He 
turned  to  the  official  and  offered  him  the  gold 
case.  "I  wanted  to  give  the  poor  devil  a  cigar- 
ette," he  explained.  "But  he  says  it  is  not 
allowed.  Ah,  I  have  forgotten  to  sign  your  reg- 
ister ;  will  you  come  back  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  readily  consented  the  man,  curi- 
ously inspecting  the  diminutive,  gold-tipped, 
perfumed  cigarette  lying  in  his  ample  palm.  The 
nicotine  bon-bon  touched  his  massive  sense  of 
the  ludicrous ;  he  was  still  contemplating  it  as  he 
led  the  way  back. 

When  the  two  vanished,  Allard  went  swiftly 
down  the  long  room,  casting  around  him  a  glance 
of  feverish  scrutiny.  He  reached  the  door  as  a 
52 


HIS    ROYAL    HIGHNESS 

great  gong  announced  the  time  when  he  should 
have  returned  from  his  work.  Snatching  up  the 
coat,  he  slipped  into  it,  pulled  out  the  yachting 
cap  with  its  gilt  insignia,  and  finding  a  pair  of 
gloves,  drew  them  over  his  stained  hands.  So  far 
well! 

The  most  dangerous  part,  the  journey  across 
the  broad,  open  wharf  under  the  gaze  of  the 
armed  guards  in  the  towers,  at  least  gave  him 
the  tonic  of  the  sweet,  wet  air. 

"I  need  John  Allard's  unshaken  nerves,"  he 
told  himself  grimly.  "If  I  reach  there,  perhaps 
I  can  believe  he  still  exists." 

The  cloudy  twilight,  just  light  enough  to 
show  his  conventional  outline,  just  dark  enough 
to  veil  discrepancies,  aided  him.  He  walked  quite 
slowly  and  naturally,  carefully  avoiding  pud- 
dles, stopping  once  to  turn  up  his  collar  against 
the  drizzling  rain.  Several  times  he  looked  back 
for  his  companion,  and  strolled  on  again. 

A  dozen  eyes  watched  the  self-possessed  figure 
as  he  leaned  nonchalantly  upon  the  barred  gate, 
53 


Allard  stiffened  to  rigidity,  his  eyes  seeking 
the  other's. 

"I  am  guilty  of  what  they  accuse ;  do  you  still 
wish  this  ?"  he  demanded. 

There  was  something  more  than  admiration  in 
the  visitor's  smile. 

"Did  you  question  me  in  Palermo,  or  did  you 
accept  caste  as  enough?  Yes,  I  wish  it."  He 
turned  to  the  official  and  offered  him  the  gold 
case.  "I  wanted  to  give  the  poor  devil  a  cigar- 
ette," he  explained.  "But  he  says  it  is  not 
allowed.  Ah,  I  have  forgotten  to  sign  your  reg- 
ister; will  you  come  back?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  readily  consented  the  man,  curi- 
ously inspecting  the  diminutive,  gold-tipped, 
perfumed  cigarette  lying  in  his  ample  palm.  The 
nicotine  bon-bon  touched  his  massive  sense  of 
the  ludicrous ;  he  was  still  contemplating  it  as  he 
led  the  way  back. 

When  the  two  vanished,  Allard  went  swiftly 
down  the  long  room,  casting  around  him  a  glance 
of  feverish  scrutiny.  He  reached  the  door  as  a 
52 


HIS    ROYAL    HIGHNESS 

great  gong  announced  the  time  when  he  should 
have  returned  from  his  work.  Snatching  up  the 
coat,  he  slipped  into  it,  pulled  out  the  yachting 
cap  with  its  gilt  insignia,  and  finding  a  pair  of 
gloves,  drew  them  over  his  stained  hands.  So  far 
well! 

The  most  dangerous  part,  the  journey  across 
the  broad,  open  wharf  under  the  gaze  of  the 
armed  guards  in  the  towers,  at  least  gave  him 
the  tonic  of  the  sweet,  wet  air. 

"I  need  John  Allard's  unshaken  nerves,"  he 
told  himself  grimly.  "If  I  reach  there,  perhaps 
I  can  believe  he  still  exists." 

The  cloudy  twilight,  just  light  enough  to 
show  his  conventional  outline,  just  dark  enough 
to  veil  discrepancies,  aided  him.  He  walked  quite 
slowly  and  naturally,  carefully  avoiding  pud- 
dles, stopping  once  to  turn  up  his  collar  against 
the  drizzling  rain.  Several  times  he  looked  back 
for  his  companion,  and  strolled  on  again. 

A  dozen  eyes  watched  the  self-possessed  figure 
as  he  leaned  nonchalantly  upon  the  barred  gate, 
53 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

and  passed  from  him  to  the  more  interesting 
spectacle  of  the  small  white  launch  and  immacu- 
late crew  waiting  outside. 

There  was  little  time,  and  the  visitor,  now  with 
three  attendant  officials,  moved  slowly  across  the 
space. 

"God,"  prayed  Allard  dumbly,  leaning  against 
the  gate  in  anguished  waiting.  "I  think  I  have 
paid ;  but  if  not,  let  them  shoot — to  kill." 

The  group  came  nearer,  halted.  Allard  drew 
himself  stiffly  erect  and  raised  his  hand  in  salute 
as  the  tallest  man  came  opposite,  then  obeyed  a 
slight  movement  of  direction  and  stepped  behind 
him.  A  grating  of  locks,  a  brief  exchange  of 
compliments,  and  for  the  first  time  in  two  years 
the  prisoner  stood  without  the  barriers.  Free,  if 
only  for  that  instant,  free,  and  in  reach  of  the 
lapping  river. 

The  sailors  waited  at  rigid  salute,  the  visitor 

"stepped  into  the  swaying  launch,  and  as  Allard 

followed  the  gate  closed — behind  him.   The  tiny 

engine  puffed,  caught  its  beat,  and  the  boat 

54 


HIS    ROYAL    HIGHNESS 

darted  toward  the  dim  white  shape  out  in  the 
stream. 

Lights  were  flashing  up  here  and  there  in  the 
buildings,  shining  through  the  barred  windows. 
To  see  the  uncheckered  sky  again ! 

At  the  throb  of  their  motor  the  yacht  gleamed 
unexpectedly  into  an  outline  of  myriad-pointed 
fire.  Men  ran  across  the  decks,  a  miniature  stair- 
case fell  in  readiness. 

"Follow  me  closely,"  directed  the  cool  voice, 
when  the  launch  stopped. 

The  wet,  shining  deck,  the  mutely  respectful 
figures  waiting  to  receive  them,  all  blurred  into 
insignificance  for  Allard.  As  his  foot  touched 
the  yacht,  pandemonium  broke  loose  in  the 
prison.  Out  over  shouts  and  gong  crashed  the 
deafening  roar  of  the  huge  whistle,  rousing  the 
country-side  for  miles  around. 

"It  means?"  questioned  the  master  of  the  situ- 
ation. 

"They  know  I  am  missing — and  they  will 
think  to  search  the  yacht  first." 
55 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

"They  will  not  search  it  without  my  consent, 
but  I  shall  grant  it.  Come." 

A  hand  closed  on  Allard's  arm ;  he  was  guided 
swiftly  down  a  tinted  and  gilded  companionway, 
across  several  rooms  no  less  brilliant,  and  finally 
halted  in  a  jewel  box  state-room. 

"The  clothes  lie  ready ;  get  into  them  as  soon 
as  possible  and  come  back  to  me.  Lose  no  time, 
and  toss  the  things  you  wear  into  that  chest," 
came  the  directions.  "I  dare  send  no  one  to  aid 
you." 

"I  understand,"  Allard  answered,  equally  col- 
lected. In  those  Palermo  days,  it  had  been  Don 
John  who  had  lent  Don  Feodor  a  dinner  dress ; 
there  would  be  little  difficulty  in  the  substitution 
now. 

The  other  man  went  out  to  the  salon.  Touch- 
ing a  bell  on  the  table,  he  gave  his  outer  gar- 
ments to  the  attendant  who  appeared. 

"I  shall  not  dress  for  dinner,"  he  stated.  "Let 
it  be  served  here,  now." 

"Your  Royal  Highness  is  obeyed." 
66 


HIS    ROYAL    HIGHNESS 

"And  my  companion  is  a  gentleman  who  takes 
Dancla's  place;  let  the  suite  be  arranged  for 
him." 

"Yes,  your  Royal  Highness." 

His  Royal  Highness  sat  down  in  an  arm-chair, 
his  dark  eyes  more  drowsily  lustrous  than  usual 
as  he  listened  to  the  din  on  shore.  His  old-world 
beauty  of  feature  was  characterized  very 
strongly  by  the  locked  tranquillity  of  expression 
seen  in  those  who  live  constantly  under  the  ob- 
servation of  others;  he  wore  a  mask  of  repose 
not  readily  lifted. 

It  was  not  long  before  Allard  came  out,  and 
closing  the  door  behind  him,  stood  for  a  moment 
regarding  his  host  with  an  expression  that 
blended  all  thoughts  in  its  passionate  intensity. 
And  prepared  as  he  was  for  the  change,  remem- 
bering as  he  did  the  Don  John  of  Palermo,  the 
other  yet  returned  the  gaze  with  startled  admira- 
tion and  wonder.  This  gentleman,  who  pro- 
claimed his  class  in  bearing,  glance,  in  the  very 
poise  of  his  head  with  its  short,  waving  chestnut 
57 


THE    GAME   AND   THE    CANDLE 

hair  of  patrician  fineness, — how  had  he  been  con- 
founded for  one  hour  with  the  under-world? 
Who  had  found  the  stamp  of  criminality  in  the 
strong,  fine,  sorrowful  face? 

"Monsieur,"  said  Allard,  taking  a  step  for- 
ward. 

Recalled,  the  host  rose  at  once. 

"Pardon  a  thousand  times ;  I  must  remember 
you  are  the  guest  now  and  that  this  is  not  Villa 
Giocosa.  But  I  can  not  play  incognito  any  more. 
I  have  told  my  people  that  you  come  to  take  the 
place  of  my  late  secretary,  Dancla — the  man  of 
whom  you  warned  me — so  you  comprehend  that 
it  would  never  do  for  us  not  to  know  each  other. 
I  am  Feodor  Stanief." 

Too  aloof  from  recent  European  news,  too 
long  separated  in  thought  from  his  former  care- 
less knowledge  of  such  things,  the  name  awoke  in 
Allard  only  a  vague  sense  of  familiarity. 

"If  you  have  so  much  patience,  or  care  for  the 
old  days,  I  will  tell  you  my  story  whenever  you 
choose,  monsieur,"  he  answered  frankly  and  with 
58 


HIS    ROYAL   HIGHNESS 

dignity.  "Until  then,  may  I  still  give  you  the 
half-truth  of  Villa  Giocosa  and  bear  the  name 
of  John?" 

The  soft  tinkle  of  china  interrupted  them. 
Stanief  had  only  time  to  reply  with  his  unexpect- 
edly brilliant  smile,  before  the  servant  entered  the 
salon. 

"I  shall  have  pleasure  in  claiming  the  confi- 
dence, Monsieur  John,"  he  returned,  "and  may 
have  one  to  give,  if  you  concede  what  I  hope. 
Marzio,  what  is  that  uproar  outside?"  turning  to 
the  servant. 

"Your  Royal  Highness,  it  is  not  known.  The 
people  on  shore  are  much  disturbed." 

"Apparently.  If  we  were  home,  Monsieur 
John,  I  should  call  it  a  riot;  but  here — "  he 
shrugged  his  shoulders  and  moved  toward  the 
table. 

Allard  followed,  noting  for  the  first  time  the 
title  given  the  other.  Interpreting  his  glance, 
Stanief  nodded  intelligence  as  the  servant  with- 
drew for  an  instant. 

59 


THE    GAME    AND   THE    CANDLE 

"Yes ;  a  mere  formality,  but  one  it  is  not  safe 
to  ignore  in  our  delicate  position.  To  speak 
otherwise  might  draw  attention." 

Allard  looked  across  the  miniature  dining 
table,  of  which  the  shaded  candles  and  slim  vase 
of  flowers,  the  translucent  crystal  and  frosty 
silver,  all  seemed  to  typify  and  insist  upon  the 
life  which  so  strangely  claimed  him ;  and  gazing 
at  the  author  of  this,  the  gray  eyes  grew  splen- 
didly luminous  with  something  for  which  grati- 
tude was  too  pale  and  colorless  a  term.  All  the 
hoarded  emotion  of  the  last  two  years,  all  the 
despair  and  desolation,  added  their  strength  to 
his  eloquent  regard.  Receiving  it,  Stanief's  own 
eyes  grew  warm  and  almost  femininely  sweet. 
No  speech  could  have  told  so  much.  When  the 
'servant  reentered  and  the  lashes  of  both  men  fell, 
a  chain  unbreakable  had  been  forged,  the  clear- 
ness of  wordless  understanding  was  between 
them. 

Neither  spoke  during  the  first  course.  The 
rapid  beat  of  a  small  engine  finally  disturbed  the 
60 


HIS    ROYAL    HIGHNESS 

silence,  telling  of  a  launch  approaching  from 
shore. 

"Try  your  Sauterne,"  advised  Stanief  quietly. 

Allard  obeyed.  The  food  nauseated  him,  the 
heavy  pulse  of  his  own  heart  seemed  tangled  with 
the  nearing  throb  of  the  boat ;  the  suspense  was 
physical  pain.  The  wine  helped,  sending  its 
vivifying  warmth  along  his  numbed  nerves. 

"You  know,"  the  tranquil  voice  added,  "this 
ship  is  foreign  ground.  There  are  a  few  for- 
malities attached.  We  should  have  a  little  time, 
even — " 

Allard  lifted  his  head  with  a  quick  breath. 

"Once,  in  such  an  hour,  I  asked  one  whom  I 
believed  a  friend  to  leave  me  a  revolver,"  he  said. 
"Not  being  of  the  class,  he  refused.  If  there 
should  be — a  little  time,  I  will  make  that  request 
of  you,  your  Royal  Highness." 

"And  I  am  of  the  class.  But  there  are  many 
things  before  that." 

Voices  on  deck,  hurrying  feet,  stilled  the  sen- 
tence. 

61 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

"Thank  you,"  Allard  answered,  and  waited. 

Marzio  again,  deftly  removing  plates,  chang- 
ing glasses.  Then  another  entrance, — the  blond 
Vasili  who  had  accompanied  Stanief  that  day. 

"Well  ?"  queried  his  chief. 

"Your  Royal  Highness,  Captain  Delsar  re-" 
spectfully  begs  an  interview." 

"Why?" 

"Your  Royal  Highness,  a  boat  from  shore  has 
arrived  and  the  officers  request  permission  to 
search  the  yacht  for  an  escaped  prisoner." 

"Is  that  the  reason  for  the  din  they  are  creat- 
ing?" 

"Yes,  your  Royal  Highness." 

Stanief  selected  a  cigarette  and  pushed  the 
tray  toward  Allard. 

"Of  course  they  have  no  right  to  do  so,"  he 
replied  indifferently,  "but  I  have  no  objection. 
Let  them  search,  by  all  means.  Tell  Captain 
Delsar  to  aid  them  all  he  can,  although,  unless 
he  swam,  there  was  no  way  for  a  man  to  reach 
the  yacht  except  on  the  launch  which  brought 
62 


HIS    ROYAL    HIGHNESS 

Monsieur  John  and  me.  Monsieur  John,  let 
me  introduce  Lieutenant  Paul  Vasili." 

Allard  turned  to  acknowledge  the  other's 
friendly  salute.  Stanief  faced  the  door,  which 
consequently  was  behind  his  companion. 

"Give  the  message,  Vasili,  and  say  the  yacht 
is  open  to  them ;  even  these  rooms,  if  they  wish. 
And  tell  the  captain  that  we  sail  in  an  hour. 
That  is  all." 

Silence  again.  Allard  mechanically  maintained 
the  pretense  of  eating  with  each  course  while  in 
reality  he  knew  nothing  but  the  faint  sounds 
of  the  search  and  the  intermittent  roar  of  the 
whistle. 

With  the  coffee  came  Vasili  once  more.  Stanief 
nodded  permission  for  the  message. 

"Your  Royal  Highness,  the  officers  from  the 
prison  have  finished.  As  a  matter  of  form,  they 
would  accept  your  Royal  Highness5  offered  con- 
sent and  glance  in  here,  in  order  to  report  every 
part  of  the  yacht  examined." 

"Very  good;  admit  them.  Marzio,  why  have 
63 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

you  this  electric  light  over  the  table?  Turn  it 
out;  the  candelabra  and  the  side  lights  are  am- 
ple." 

Both  orders  were  promptly  obeyed.  Vasili  dis- 
appeared and  the  flaring  light  went  out,  leaving 
the  room  softly  glowing  with  rosy  color.  Stanief 
looked  into  the  set  face  opposite  with  the  first 
trace  of  annoyance  on  his  own. 

"I  forgot  the  coat,  left  on  the  bench  all  the 
afternoon.  If  any  one  saw  it — " 

AUard  made  a  movement,  then  the  door  behind 
him  opened. 

"Come  in,  officer,"  Stanief  invited  pleasantly. 
"You  are  satisfied  with  a  mere  survey,  or  do  you 
wish  to  carry  it  farther?  I  think  either  Mr. 
John  or  I  have  been  in  this  room,  however,  since 
we  came  aboard  at  half -past  five." 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  an  embarrassed  voice,  a 
voice  which  for  months  had  represented  au- 
tocracy for  Allard.  "We  just  want  to  report  a 
complete  search,  sir.  I'm  sorry  to  trouble." 

Stanief  lighted  a  cigar,  letting  the  man  slowly 
64 


Come  in,  Officer,"   Stanief  invited  pleasantly     Page  64 


HIS    ROYAL    HIGHNESS 

take  in  the  scene.  The  gorgeous,  velvet-draped 
salon,  the  last  course  of  the  dinner,  the  serene 
"distinguished  visitor," — there  was  no  clue  here. 
And  certainly  there  was  nothing  to  suggest  a 
desperate  convict  in  the  gentleman  in  evening 
dress  whose  back  was  to  the  door,  and  who  stirred 
his  cafe  noir  so  indifferently. 

"Why  did  you  fancy  he  came  to  the  yacht?" 
Stanief  inquired. 

"Oh,  excuse  me,  sir;  it  was  only  one  chance. 
We  thought  he  might  have  got  to  the  river  and 
swam  for  here.  You  see,  it  would  be  pretty  hard 
to  get  out  the  other  way  in  his  clothes." 

Allard  raised  his  head  impulsively. 

"Why,"  he  began,  then  remembered  the  punc- 
tilious Vasili  and  checked  himself.  "I  beg  par- 
don, your  Royal  Highness." 

A  gleam  of  amusement  flickered  across 
Staniefs  black  eyes  at  the  quickly-learned  eti- 
quette. 

"Faites,  my  dear  John,"  he  granted,  waiv- 
ing the  point. 

65 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

"It  occurred  to  me  that  your  Royal  Highness 
had  ordered  a  rain  coat  to  be  left  on  the  bench 
by  the  rear  door,  and  when  we  returned  it  was 
net  there.  Could  it  be  possible — " 

"That  it  was  stolen?"  caught  up  Stanief, 
grasping  the  audacity  of  the  idea.  "Undoubt- 
edly so.  I  fancied  my  order  neglected  and  in- 
tended rebuking  the  one  responsible.  Officer,  be- 
hold your  clue:  a  hatless  man  in  an  English 
rain  coat." 

The  phrase  captivated  the  man's  dull  imagina- 
tion. 

"A  hatless  man  in  an  English  rain  coat,"  he 
echoed,  fascinated.  "Yes,  sir,  thank  you,  sir. 
We  will  telegraph  all  around.  If  I  may  go, 
sir—" 

"You  are  quite  certain  he  is  not  aboard?  I  do 
not  wish  to  carry  any  dangerous  stowaways,  and 
we  sail  at  once." 

"Quite  sure,  sir.  I  must  waste  no  more  time." 

"Good  night,  then.  I  imagine  you  will  have  no 
more  trouble  with  that  prisoner." 
66 


HIS    ROYAL    HIGHNESS 

"Oh,  no,  sir,"  not  understanding  the  double 
meaning.  "Not  after  this.  A  hatless  man  in  an 
English  rain  coat !  Good  night,  sir." 

"Marzio,"  said  Stanief,  when  the  door  closed, 
"you  may  bring  some  cognac,  and  leave  us.  No 
one  enters." 

Voices  on  deck,  hurrying  feet,  and  presently 
the  retreating  throb  of  a  little  engine. 

"Drink  your  cognac,  Monsieur  John." 

"Thank  you." 

"Bah,  your  nerves  are  superb,  but  they  pay 
beneath  your  stillness.  Drink ;  I  warn  you  that 
I  have  the  habit  of  domination." 

Allard  drank. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE    BOND 

THE  habit  of  domination  Stanief  assuredly 
had,  however  gracefully  it  were  disguised. 
Nor  was  Allard,  bruised  with  conflict,  exhaust- 
ed, dazed,  in  the  mood  to  resist.  He  desired 
feverishly  to  speak;  to  tell  his  story  and  let 
Stanief,  fully  informed,  decide  whether  the 
aid  already  given  was  to  be  continued  further. 
The  idea  of  a  deception,  a  false  belief  in  an  in- 
justice suffered  by  him,  was  intolerable.  But 
Stanief  smilingly  imposed  silence,  and  he  yielded 
passively. 

The  cigars  burned  out  slowly,  the  tumult  on 
shore  died  away.  A  quivering  vibration  awoke 
to  delicate  life  the  yacht.  Stanief  smoked  or 
played  with  his  coffee-cup,  his  heavy  double 
fringe  of  lashes  brushing  his  cheek;  Allard 
68 


THE    BOND 

leaned  back  in  his  chair,  less  in  reverie  than  in 
utter  exhaustion. 

Exactly  as  the  bells  rang  the  hour  came  the 
metallic  clank  of  anchor  chains.  The  yacht  shud- 
dered under  the  screw,  the  glass  and  china  tin- 
kled faintly,  then  all  settled  into  regularity  as 
the  engines  fell  into  their  gait  and  the  beautiful 
boat  moved  down  the  river. 

"And  Vasili  is  out  there  in  poignant  distress 
because  he  can  not  come  in  'to  have  the  honor  to 
report  that  we  sail,' "  remarked  Stanief,  break- 
ing the  long  pause.  "It  was  daringly  conceived, 
Monsieur  John,  but  were  you  not  a  trifle  im- 
prudent in  speaking  before  that  brilliant  visitor 
of  ours  ?  Your  voice  ?" 

Allard  aroused  himself  abruptly. 

"Our  speech  back  there  was  confined  to  mono- 
syllables," he  answered.  "No,  your  Royal  High- 
ness, I  think  there  was  no  risk." 

Stanief  did  not  deprecate  the  title,  perhaps 
unnoting,  perhaps  willing  to  let  the  other  learn. 

"We  are  on  the  high  seas,  and  quite  free  from 
69 


listeners,"  he  said  composedly.  "I  ask  no  ques- 
tions, demand  nothing  of  you,  but  if  you  indeed 
wish  to  speak  of  the  closed  episode,  Monsieur 
John,  I  am  ready.  After  to-night  we  shall  have 
other  things  to  occupy  us." 

Allard  leaned  forward  eagerly,  his  clear  gray 
eyes  baring  to  the  other  man  all  their  tragedy 
and  compelling  truth. 

"I  want  you  to  know,  it  is  your  right  to 
know,"  he  answered,  with  a  very  fierceness  of 
pride  and  sorrow.  "I  am  going  to  place  in  your 
power  more  than  you  have  given  me  to-day. 
Hand  me  to  those  who  hunt  me,  give  me  the  pis- 
tol promised  and  the  word  to  use  it,  but  keep  my 
confidence.  Forgive  me,  I  am  not  distrustful, 
only  trying  to  show  what  I  mean." 

"I  understand." 

Allard  looked  down  at  the  polished  surface  of 
the  table,  his  pallor  deepening  if  possible,  then 
suddenly  brought  his  eyes  back  to  Stanief 's  and 
began  to  speak. 

It  was  a  very  quiet  story,  very  quietly  told. 
70 


THE    BOND 

It  had  never  occurred  to  the  Anglo-Saxon  Allard 
to  idealize  his  course  into  heroism ;  even  mistaken 
heroism.  Rather,  he  had  learned  to  see  more 
clearly,  to  condemn  himself,  during  those  long, 
bitter  months.  He  bore  no  resentment  for  the 
punishment  inflicted;  simply  it  seemed  to  him 
that  he  had  paid  enough.  Over  the  weeks  of  suf- 
fering in  the  hospital,  the  bitterness  of  the  pub- 
lic trial  with  its  torturing  dread  of  recognition, 
he  passed  in  a  few  brief  words.  Of  Theodora 
he  spoke  only  as  his  cousin  and  as  Robert's  be- 
trothed ;  yet  dimly  he  felt  that  the  mute  Stanief 
was  reading  all  he  left  untold. 

"There  was  no  other  way,"  he  concluded,  and 
the  phrase  was  the  key-note  to  all.  "Undoubt- 
edly it  was  the  wrong  way,  but  there  was  no  other 
I  could  find,  and  I  had  to  take  care  of  them." 

So  far  he  had  spoken  of  those  he  loved  merely 
by  their  relationship.  It  was  the  final  trust  that 
Stanief  asked  by  his  next  question : 

"Will  you  tell  me  your  name  ?" 

And  Allard  laid  his  heart  in  the  other's  hand. 
71 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

"John  Leslie  Allard,"  he  answered. 

There  was  an  Instant's  pause.  Stanief  folded 
his  arms  on  the  table  and  spoke  in  his  turn  with 
no  less  quiet  sincerity. 

"Of  the  ethics  of  what  you  have  told  me, 
Monsieur  Allard,  I  am  perhaps  not  a  good  judge. 
I  come  from  one  of  the  world's  greatest  coun- 
tries, where  from  sovereign  to  peasant  necessity 
is  an  excuse  for  all  things.  I  have  seen  the  high- 
est officials  of  the  state  stoop  to  accept  sys- 
tematic bribery ;  I  have  seen  nobles  whose  blood 
was  filtered  unmixed  through  centuries,  tricking 
one  another  and  the  Emperor  who  trusted  them ;  I 
have  seen  the  commanders  of  the  army  selling 
for  private  gain  the  supplies  which  stood  be- 
tween their  soldiers  and  starvation.  In  what  you 
have  done  I  confess  to  realizing  nothing  but  in- 
credible courage  and  self-sacrifice,  possibly  mis- 
directed. But  the  result  has  been  to  leave  you 
alone,  as  I  stand  alone  in  a  different  sense,  so 
placing  a  bond  between  us.  There  is  no  one  in 
my  world  to  whom  I  could  give  the  trust  I  offer 
72 


THE    BOND 

you.  Offer  merely :  I  have  done  for  you  no  more 
than  you  did  in  warning  me  against  Dancla  to- 
day, and  you  owe  me  nothing.  You  are  abso- 
lutely free ;  will  you  cast  your  fortune  with  me, 
or  shall  I  set  you  down  in  some  one  of  the 
European  ports  at  which  we  shall  touch?" 

Allard  bent  forward  to  lay  his  hand  in  the  one 
so  frankly  extended.  He  remembered  Stanief's 
name  now,  and  remembering,  comprehended 
many  things. 

"I  have  no  one,  nothing1,"  he  answered  ear- 
nestly. "The  purpose  for  which  I  gave  all  is  ac- 
complished and  laid  aside.  Your  Royal  Highness, 
if  you  will  let  me  serve  you,  take  your  purpose 
for  my  goal,  your  life  for  my  empty  existence,  I 
will  give  you  all  I  can." 

Stanief's  firm  clasp  closed. 

"Agreed.  Soit  que  soit." 

And  Allard  repeated  the  promise  as  seriously : 

"Be  what  may." 

The  whistle  of  a  passing  tug,  laboring 
through  the  mists  toward  Haverstraw  with  its 
73 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

train  of  scows,  drew  the  corresponding  blare  of 
the  yacht's  siren.  Involuntarily  Allard  started, 
his  over-strained  nerves  shrinking.  Stanjef 
smiled. 

"Let  Rome  howl,  John,  I  may  call  you  John, 
since  we  commenced  so?  Indeed  I  must,  after 
giving  you  that  name  in  public.  You  are  mine 
now,  and  all  America  can  not  take  you.  Rest  so 
far;  it  is  one  of  our  old  sayings  at  home:  *A 
Stanief  guards  his  own !' 5! 

His  own!  The  long  loneliness  snatched  the 
phrase  greedily ;  worn  out,  Allard  submitted  to 
protection  without  resentment.  A  student  of 
men,  Stanief 's  eyes  smiled  behind  their  lashes  as 
he  continued  more  lightly: 

"But  now  for  details.  You  take  the  place  of 
my  secretary,  whom  I  dismissed  this  afternoon 
and  saw  on  board  a  train  for  Albany,  very  much: 
against  his  will  and  very  badly  frightened.  I 
have  ordered  his  rooms  prepared  for  you.  His 
things  are  there,  and  I  imagine  you  will  prob- 
ably find  some  of  them  you  can  use  until  your 
74 


THE    BOND 

own  arrive  in  the  morning.  I  will  send  Petro  to 
you ;  his  ideas  are  confined  to  doing  as  he  is  told, 
and  I  shall  tell  him  that  my  invitation  left  you 
no  time  for  packing.  Of  course  you  will  resume 
your  own  name." 

Allard  drew  back  aghast  as  such  a  proposi- 
tion. 

"My  own  name — " 

"Why  not?"  Stanief  demanded.  "Could  any- 
thing be  more  safe?  Masquerades  are  always 
dangerous  and  to  be  avoided.  John  Allard's 
unquestioned  history,  his  journey  abroad  from 
which  he  reappears  as  my  secretary,  defy  all  in- 
vestigation, where  an  assumed  name  and  past 
could  only  arouse  doubt.  If  you  were  challenged 
now  as  the  escaped  prisoner,  your  safest  course 
would  be  to  give  indignantly  your  own  name, 
proving  it  by  your  Calif ornian  connections  and 
by  me.  John  Allard  has  stepped  back  upon  his 
stage.  Write  to  your  brother,  if  you  choose; 
pick  up  your  old  friendships.  The  last  three 
years  simply  do  not  exist  for  you ;  knot  the  past 
75 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

and  the  future  together  and  let  the  marred 
strand  go." 

The  logic  was  unanswerable ;  with  a  quivering 
breath  Allard  took  back  all  he  had  resigned  for 
ever. 

"You  are  right,"  he  yielded,  and  bent  his  head 
to  hide  what  flashed  on  his  lashes. 

Stanief  touched  the  bell  and  rose. 

"You  are  tired,  and  I  have  much  to  arrange. 
No  doubt,"  the  dark  eyes  were  amusedly  ex- 
pressive, "Monsieur  Allard  is  familiar  enough 
with  yachting  not  to  be  bored  to-morrow.  You 
will  find  Vasili  a  cheerful  companion,  Rosal  also. 
Marzio,  show  monsieur  his  rooms  and  send  me 
Petro.  And  tell  Captain  Delsar  that  I  shall  have 
pleasure  in  receiving  him.  Good  night,  John." 

"Good  night,  your  Royal  Highness,"  was  Al- 
lard's  reply,  but  his  straight  eloquent  glance  car- 
ried its  message  to  the  other's  heart. 

Alone  at  last  in  the  coquettish  suite  set  apart 
for  him — the  jewel-box  luxury  of  the  yacht  here 
manifested  in  azure  and  silver  daintiness — the 
76 


THE    BOND 

great  reaction  seized  Allard.  So  few  hours  since, 
he  was  Leroy ;  it  was  hard  to  grasp  this  reality. 
He  was  weary  to  exhaustion,  but  something  very 
near  fever  drove  him  to  the  round  window  which 
swung  back  at  his  touch  and  let  the  wet  sweet  air 
rush  in.  Leaning  there,  the  very  chaos  of  his 
thoughts  left  physical  torpor. 

Petro  aroused  him  an  hour  later — and  still 
with  that  curious  passivity  Allard  allowed  him- 
self to  be  cared  for,  measured,  respectfully  con- 
sulted. He  even  found  himself  ordering  the  old 
dishes  for  breakfast,  specifying  the  old  hour  of 
service.  And  with  the  once  familiar  comfort 
came  more  restfulness. 

Much  later  he  came  a  second  time  to  the  round 
window  and  opened  it  to  the  rain  and  darkness. 
The  April  wind  passed  chill  fingers  among  the 
boyish  curls  still  warm  from  the  bath,  the  tiny 
cold  drops  sprinkled  the  throat  from  which  the 
departed  Dancla's  silken  dressing-gown  fell 
back,  but  Allard  felt  nothing.  And  suddenly  his 
head  sank  on  his  arm. 

77 


"Desmond,"  he  breathed,  "I  can  forgive  you, 
now.  Can  you  hear  out  there,  Desmond?" 

The  yacht  slipped  on  through  the  mist,  monot- 
onously, steadily. 


78 


CHAPTER  V 

THE    NEW    DAY 

THE  morning  sunlight  penetrated  the  room 
riotously,  merrily  defying  the  azure  silk 
and  lace  muffling  the  windows,  glinting  in  every 
polished  surface  and  running  golden-footed 
from  point  to  point.  Lying  tranquilly  among  his 
pillows,  Allard  watched  the  man  busied  in  fold- 
ing and  laying  away  a  multitudinous  array  of 
garments,  placing  gloves  and  handkerchiefs  in 
drawers  and  arranging  toilet  articles. 

"You  are  not  Petro,"  Allard  remarked  finally. 

The  man  started  and  turned. 

"No,  monsieur.  With  monsieur's  permission, 
I  am  Vladimir.  His  Royal  Highness  said  that 
as  monsieur  had  not  yet  engaged  a  valet  for  the 
voyage,  perhaps  I  might  be  accepted.  I  would 
be  very  glad  to  serve  monsieur." 

"Very  well,"  Allard  assented.  Stanief  was  not 
to  be  contradicted,  but  certainly  embarrassment 
79 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

seemed  unavoidable  in  view  of  an  absent  ward- 
robe. Dancla  had  been  of  a  decidedly  different 
figure  from  his  successor.  "What  time  is  it?" 

"Nearly  ten  o'clock,  monsieur,"  and  he  ap- 
proached and  kissed  the  hand  outside  the  cover- 
let before  the  surprised  American  could  object. 
"Every  thanks,  monsieur ;  I  am  monsieur's  de- 
voted servant.  It  pleases  monsieur  to  rise?" 

"I — suppose  so.   The  yacht  has  stopped." 

"Yes,  monsieur.  We  are  anchored  before  the 
great  city,  New  York,  since  many  hours." 

Allard  had  yet  to  learn  his  Stanief ;  the  time 
was  to  come,  when  to  know  an  affair  in  his  charge 
was  to  abandon  anxiety  concerning  it.  The  ques- 
tion of  the  wardrobe  was  embarrassing  only  from 
its  overwhelming  answer.  Never  even  in  the  other 
days  had  Allard,  naturally  simple  in  tastes,  pro- 
vided himself  with  the  lavish  and  sybaritic  com- 
pleteness he  found  awaiting  him  now.  No  detail 
was  forgotten ;  the  very  toilet-table  bore  its  shin- 
ing array,  each  dainty  article  carrying  the  cor- 
rect monogram,  J.  L.  A.  Marveling,  Allard 
80 


THE    NEW   DAY 

pictured  what  it  meant  to  have  produced  this  in 
one  night ;  and  vaguely  realized  that  there  must 
be  a  deeper  ob j  ect  than  mere  consideration  for  his 
comfort,  behind  all  this  unnecessary  elaboration. 

Breakfast  was  served  in  his  own  miniature 
salon. 

"His  Royal  Highness  is  awake?"  he  inquired. 

"Monsieur,  his  Royal  Highness  went  ashore 
an  hour  ago,  to  pay  farewell  visits  of  ceremony." 

They  were  to  sail  soon,  then.  AUard's  pulses 
quickened  with  relief  at  the  prospect.  Remem- 
bering Stanief's  expressive  injunction  to  show 
himself  at  ease  and  make  friends  with  his  new 
companions,  he  resolved  to  go  on  deck.  But  be- 
fore the  white  and  silver  writing-desk  he  lin- 
gered wistfully. 

"You  can  mail  a  letter  for  me,  Vladimir?" 

"Certainly,  monsieur." 

The  letter  must  be  convincing,  and  not  danr 

gerous  in  the  wrong  hands.    With  a  tenderness 

that  was  almost  pain  he  recalled  the  last  signed 

letter  to  his  brother,  written  on  that  final  night  at 

81 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

home,  while  Robert  sat  by  with  hidden  eyes.  A 
letter  he  had  headed  South  America,  the  date 
blank,  to  be  used  as  explanation  to  Theodora  and 
her  mother  if  the  crash  came  and  he  disappeared 
for  years. 

The  thick  cream-tinted  paper  was  convincing 
in  itself,  bearing  in  gilt  letters  the  name  of  the 
yacht,  Nadeja. 

» 
MY  DEAR  OLD  ROBERT  : 

I  have  just  returned  from  the  South,  and  of 
course  intended  to  come  straight  home.  But  I 
met  H.  R.  H.  the  Grand  Duke  Feodor  Stanief , 
who  has  been  visiting  the  United  States,  and  he 
is  taking  me  with  him  as  his  secretary.  I  owe 
him  more  than  I  can  tell,  or  you  guess,  Bertie ; 
and  this  service  is  a  service  of  love.  I  will  write 
again ;  you  know  there  was  no  opportunity  where 
I  have  been. 

Give  my  love  to  Aunt  Rose  and  Theo — is  she 
quite  my  sister  by  this  time? 

Very  happily  and  lovingly,  my  brother, 
Your  brother, 

JOHN  ALLARD. 
83 


THE    NEW   DAY 

Like  a  girl  he  touched  the  letter  to  his  lips  be- 
fore putting  it  in  the  envelop.  Robert  would 
watch  the  eastern  newspapers,  he  knew,  and 
couple  the  two  stories  together. 

The  lower  Hudson  was  swept  by  a  strong  salt 
wind  when  Allard  reached  the  deck,  green  and 
white  waves  running  under  the  bright  sunshine 
and  lashed  to  swirling  froth  by  the  innumerable 
boats  plowing  back  and  forth.  On  the  yacht 
everything  was  activity  and  preparation,  all 
sound  overborne  by  the  crash  of  loading  coal. 
The  busy  Captain  Delsar  left  his  affairs  and 
came  to  greet  the  guest  punctiliously,  if  hur- 
riedly. 

"We  sail  this  morning,"  he  explained,  "and 
you  will  understand  all  that  involves  for  me,  mon- 
sieur." 

Allard  responded  cordially ;  it  was  so  wonder- 
ful, so  beautiful,  just  to  meet  other  men  again 
and  be  himself.  And  presently  Lieutenant  Va- 
sili  came  to  add  his  cheerful  greeting  and  lead 
the  way  to  the  forward  deck,  where  wicker  chairs 
83 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

and  small  tables  stood  under  a  gay  scarlet  awn- 
ing- 

"His  Royal  Highness  told  me  this  morning  to 
amuse  you,  if  I  could,"  he  declared.  "Indeed,  I 
think  he  left  me  behind  for  that  purpose,  Mon- 
sieur John." 

"Allard,"  the  other  corrected  pleasantly.  "I 
am  infinitely  obliged  to  his  Royal  Highness,  then, 
I  am  sure." 

"A  thousand  pardons;  I  misunderstood  your 
name  last  night." 

"Not  exactly,  his  Royal  Highness  calls  me 
John,  my  Christian  name." 

Vasili's  eyes  opened  and  he  regarded  his  com- 
panion with  marked  respect. 

"He  told  me  he  had  known  you  a  long  time," 
he  assented,  "and  that  you  had  been  ill.  The 
voyage  across  will  tone  you  up — if  you  are  a 
good  sailor — before  we  reach  home." 

"I  am  a  good  sailor,"  Allard  affirmed,  rather 
astonished  at  Staniefs  account  of  his  health.  He 
had  no  idea  of  the  extreme  delicacy  of  his  own 
84 


THE    NEW    DAY 

appearance,  of  how  those  years  of  torture  had 
left  him  worn  and  colorless. 

Vasili  tilted  his  chair  against  the  rail  and 
smiled  engagingly. 

"For  my  part  I  am  always  happiest  at  sea," 
he  confided.  "Not  that  I  am  concerned  with  po- 
litical affairs — pas  si  bete;  I  leave  that  for  wiser 
heads.  But  still  one  is  never  secure  in  a  country 
like  ours.  I  walk  straight  ahead  without  asking 
questions,  and  hope  the  Grand  Duke  sees  I  am 
doing  no  more;  nevertheless,  one  is  more  com- 
fortable at  sea.  Ah,  this  America  is  a  restful 
place!  No  intrigues,  no  rivals,  no  salt-mines  in 
the  background." 

"A  delightful  picture  you  are  painting  for 
me,"  suggested  Allard  laughingly. 

"Oh,  you  are  the  friend  of  his  Royal  High- 
ness, monsieur.  Moreover,  every  one  believes  an 
American  or  an  Englishman  when  he  declares 
himself  with  one  party;  it  is  only  each  other 
whom  we  always  suspect.  Tiens,  the  little  white 
boat!" 

85 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

The  little  white  boat  in  question  was  one  of 
the  city  police  launches,  and  Allard's  hand  closed 
sharply  on  the  arm  of  his  chair  as  the  officer  in 
charge  hailed  the  yacht,  signifying  his  intention 
of  coming  on  board.  Captain  Delsar  went  down 
to  receive  the  visitors,  not  without  visible  impa- 
tience at  the  interruption. 

"Come,"  exclaimed  the  diverted  Vasili,  after 
watching  the  colloquy  for  a  few  moments,  during 
which  several  of  the  yacht's  officers  joined  their 
chief.  "If  it  is  droll!" 

"What  is  it?" 

"Why,  of  course  we  all  speak  French — as  does 
every  one  at  home  except  peasants — but  since 
Dancla  went  only  the  Grand  Duke  is  left  who 
speaks  English.  And  evidently  our  guests  have 
no  French." 

Allard  surveyed  the  group,  and  glanced  up 
at  the  gorgeous  flag  fluttering  in  the  breeze  and 
casting  its  shadow  over  him.  Foreign  ground, 
Stanief  hadi  called  this. 

"I  might  play  interpreter,"  he  offered  slowly. 
86 


THE    NEW   DAY 

"Surely!  Am  I  dull  not  to  think  of  that? 
Shall  we  go?" 

The  mutually  exasperated  group  paused  to 
look  at  the  pair  coming  down  the  deck  toward 
them,  Vasili  in  his  gold-laced  uniform  and  the 
gentleman  in  yachting  flannels. 

"Monsieur  Allard,  if  you  will  indeed  assist 
us!"  welcomed  the  captain  gratefully.  "Con- 
sider that  we  sail  in  an  hour,  and  the  moments 
are  going.  His  Royal  Highness  does  not  accept 
an  excuse  instead  of  a  result." 

"Delighted,"  Allard  responded,  nodding  an 
acknowledgment  of  the  sergeant's  equally  re- 
lieved salute.  "Officer,  can  I  translate  for  you  ? 
His  Royal  Highness  is  not  on  board,  but  I  am  his 
secretary — " 

Oh,  Stanief  was  very  thorough!  The  cards 
Vladimir  had  presented  were  waiting  for  their 
owner  to  use  on  the  occasion. 

"You  are  very  kind,  Mr.  Allard,"  said  the 
deferential  officer,  reading  the  square  of  paste- 
board. "You  see,  we  received  a  telephone  call 
87 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

from  up  the  river  at  Peekskill,  asking  us  to  get 
a  better  description  of  the  clothes  that  were 
stolen  by  an  escaping  convict.  They've  picked 
up  a  coat,  but  it  looks  rather  different  from 
what  would  be  expected.  In  fact,  there  was  a 
man  inside  of  it;  but  he  says  he  lost  his  hat  in 
the  wind,  and  they  haven't  yet  got  the  prison 
people  to  identify  him." 

It  was  so  long  since  Allard  had  really  laughed 
that  he  startled  himself,  but  the  humor  of  the 
situation  was  too  much. 

"I  think  you  want  to  see  the  Grand  Duke's 
valet,"  he  explained,  and  translated  for  the 
others. 

Petro  was  hurriedly  sent  for,  and  the  fuming 
captain  left  the  affair  in  charge  of  the  two 
young  men. 

"Poor  wretch;  hope  he  gives  them  a  run," 
commented  Vasili.  "Last  year,  at  home,  I  had 
to  ride  second-class  on  a  crowded  train.  In  the 
compartment  was  just  such  a  case  as  this  man's, 
— convict  being  taken  back  to  a  fortress.  We 
88 


rode  ten  miles,  twenty ;  suddenly  he  spoke  to  me 
as  naturally  as  possible.  'You  know  what  I'm 
going  to;  give  me  a  cigar,'  he  said,  just  like 
that.  I  gave  his  guards  a  ruble,  gave  him  a 
cigar,  and  went  on  reading  my  Figaro.  Before 
we  reached  the  next  station,  just  over  a  deep 
ravine,  he  flung  himself  right  through  the  door 
and  down.  Always  felt  glad  I  gave  him  the 
cigar." 

There  was  a  curious  unreality  in  the  scene 
for  one  of  the  actors,  as  he  leaned  listening 
against  the  rail  in  the  warm  April  sunshine, 
Vasili  chatting  gaily  by  his  side  and  the  imper- 
turbable policeman  opposite.  But  he  answered 
the  little  lieutenant's  last  sentence  with  a  very 
sympathetic  glance  of  comprehension. 

Petro  appeared  presently,  and  Allard  gravely 
repeated  a  description  of  the  famous  rain  coat, 
giving  the  name  of  the  English  firm  that  had 
made  it. 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  the  satisfied  officer, 
snapping  shut  his  note-book.  "Much  obliged. 
89 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

You've  no  objection  if  your  name  gets  to  the 
papers,  sir?" 

Allard  thought  of  Robert. 

"Why,  no,  none  at  all.  But  I  have  done  noth- 
ing." 

"Yes,  sir.    Thank  you." 

"And  now?"  queried  Vasili.  "Shall  we  go 
back  and  chat,  or  first  go  over  the  yacht?  Un- 
less you  know  it  already,  of  course;  I  forget 
you  are  an  old  friend  of  his  Royal  Highness." 

"Let  us  go  over  the  yacht,  if  you  will,"  Allard 
evaded,  not  at  all  certain  of  what  Stanief  might 
please  to  assert.  He  sighed  relievedly,  hearing 
the  puff  of  the  launch  below.  "We  can  rest  aft- 
erward." 

Vasili  contemplated  him  reflectively,  inwardly 
deciding  that  Stanief 's  American  must  have  been 
very  ill  indeed  to  be  so  easily  tired.  But  he  led 
the  way  below,  charmed  with  the  new  compan- 
ionship, and  they  wandered  together  over  the 
costly  floating  toy. 

They  ended  in  the  general  salon,  and  Allard's 
90 


THE    NEW   DAY 

long-starved  eyes  went  eagerly  to  the  magazines 
and  newspapers  littering  the  table. 

"Pleasant  place,"  assented  Vasili  to  the  ex- 
pression, dropping  into  an  easy-chair.  "And 
you  will  usually  find  some  of  us  here.  Of  course, 
Count  Rosal  is  ashore  now  with  the  Grand  Duke, 
but  he  will  be  enchanted  to  learn  that  you  are 
going  with  us.  These  voyages  nearly  kill  him 
with  ennui.  He  likes  fast  horses  and  fast  motor- 
cars, and  the  Theatre  Fran9ais." 

"Then  why  does  he  come?"  Allard  inquired  in- 
terestedly. 

"Why?  There  is  a  question!  Because  he  is 
the  Grand  Duke's  aide,  because  he  wants  to  win 
favor  with  the  man  who  will  rule  the  country  by 
the  time  we  reach  it." 

"Why,  the  Emperor — " 

Vasili  raised  one  eyebrow  significantly. 

"Of  course,  if  you  do  not  want  to  talk,"  in 
slightly  injured  tones.  "But  every  one  knows 
that  the  Emperor  is  dying." 

Allard  summoned  his  recollections  of  affairs 
91 


European,  doubtfully  allowing  for  the  gap  of 
more  than  two  years. 

"The  Grand  Duke  Feodor  is  the  Emperor's 
nephew,  not  his  son,"  he  objected. 

"Oh,  he  will  only  be  regent,  certainly,"  was 
the  dry  reply.  "Never  mind;  I  told  you  I  un- 
derstood nothing  of  politics." 

Allard  opened  his  lips  to  avow  equal  igno- 
rance, then  closed  them.  He  had  no  idea  of  the 
role  Stanief  designed  for  him,  or  of  what  he  was 
supposed  to  know.  He  moved  to  the  table,  in- 
stead of  answering,  and  let  his  gaze  devour  the 
topmost  paper  of  the  pile.  Vasili  watched  him, 
deeply  impressed  by  the  reticence  and  a  little 
anxious  as  to  his  own  frankness.  When  Allard 
again  turned  to  him,  the  lieutenant  welcomed 
the  amity  with  relief  and  joyously  accepted  the 
suggestion  of  return  to  the  deck. 

The  morning  wore  on  quietly.  The  prepara- 
tions for  sailing  were  completed;  the  yacht 
poised  restlessly  like  a  snowy  bird  on  the  point 
of  flight.  Allard  no  less  quivered  with  the  rest- 
92' 


THE    NEW   DAY 

less  desire  for  departure,  the  thirst  for  the  peace 
which  would  come  with  absolute  security.  Lying 
in  his  chair,  regarding  the  teeming  river  shut  in 
on  either  side  by  the  two  great  cities  and  feeling 
all  alike  hostile  toward  him,  he  clung  almost 
superstitiously  to  the  phrase  of  the  night  before : 

"A  Stanief  guards  his  own." 

And  not  all  content  with  bare  liberty,  he  treas- 
ured the  being  no  longer  an  outlaw;  he  had 
learned  the  old  primitive  ache  of  the  "masterless 
man." 

Near  noon  a  tiny  boat  darted  from  shore.  The 
captain  hurried  to  the  head  of  the  miniature 
stairway ;  Vasili  uttered  a  hasty  excuse  and  also 
went  in  that  direction.  Allard  hesitated,  in  some 
doubt  before  this  new  etiquette,  then  judged  by 
the  others'  attitude  and  remained  where  he  was. 

As  Stanief  stepped  on  the  deck,  another 
gorgeous  flag  rose  majestically  into  place  and 
unfolded  its  emblazoned  notice  of  his  presence. 
His  drowsy  black  eyes  swept  over  the  scene  com- 
prehensively, then  he  gave  a  brief  order  to  the 


TRE   GAME   AND   THE    CANDLE 

captain  and  crossed  directly  to  Allard.  And 
Allard,  rising  to  receive  him,  suddenly  felt  his 
heart  quicken  with  a  strange,  familiar  violence. 
"We  Allards  love  more  than  other  people,"  Rob- 
ert had  said.  This  was  what  he  was  giving  Stan- 
ief,  he  realized  with  something  like  dismay, — 
that  passion  of  fierce  un-English  intensity  which 
considered  nothing  and  made  him  its  plaything. 
He  had  not  meant  to  care  like  that  again — 

"Good  morning,  John,"  said  the  cool,  faintly 
imperious  voice;  the  warmly  dark  eyes  met  his. 

Sighing,  Allard  yielded  up  the  last  resistance 
and  gave  his  all. 

"Your  Royal  Highness — "  he  murmured,  and 
hated  himself  for  the  unsteadiness  of  his  tone. 

Stanief  sank  into  a  chair  and  waved  him  to 
the  one  opposite. 

"We  are  going  to  sail  at  once,"  he  announced. 
"We  will  watch  our  progress  out  of  the  harbor 
and  then  have  lunch.  You  have  passed  an  agree- 
able morning?" 

"Yes — no,"  answered  Allard  incoherently, 
94 


THE    NEW   DAY 

taken  by  surprise.  "That  is,  everything  is  right 
now." 

Interpreting  for  himself,  Stanief  smiled. 

"Tell  me  about  it,"  he  suggested. 

The  ringing  of  anchor  chains  ceased,  the  little 
launch  again  swung  in  its  davits.  The  yacht 
shuddered,  moved.  Vasili  came  up  and  saluted 
rigidly. 

"I  have  the  honor  to  report  that  we  sail." 

Stanief  rested  his  dark  head  against  the  chair- 
back  and  met  the  brilliant  gray  eyes  with  the 
sweet  serenity  of  his  own. 


CHAPTER   VI 

"THE  KING  is  DEAD — LONG  LIVE  THE  KING" 

THE  ennuied  Count  Rosal  lunched  with 
them, — a  sallow,  fatigued  young  patrician 
who  wore  a  pince-nez.  He  obviously  was  much 
pleased  by  the  American,  and  inquired  anxiously 
whether  he  ever  motored.  Receiving  an  affirma- 
tive reply,  he  invited  him,  with  an  actual  ap- 
proach to  enthusiasm,  to  try  a  new  French  car 
as  soon  as  they  landed. 

Allard  accepted  willingly,  even  gaily;  a  little 
of  his  color  had  revived  with  the  ocean  wind, 
some  fine  elixir  had  mounted  through  his  veins 
as  the  yacht  drew  from  the  arms  of  the  harbor 
and  danced  out  over  the  long  Atlantic  swell. 

After  luncheon  Stanief  dismissed  the  third 
member  of  their  party  with  that  nonchalant 
grace  of  his. 

"Did  you  write  any  letters  this  morning?"  he 
96 


LONG   LIVE    THE    KING 

asked,  when  the  salon  had  settled  into  its  usual 
repose. 

"One ;  to  my  brotner." 

"Good;  every  one  writes  letters — an  excellent 
thing  to  do.  I  gave  your  name  to  an  avid-eyed 
band  of  reporters,  as  one  of  those  sailing  with 
me.  You  will  be  a  person  of  some  importance  in 
the  tangled  affairs  to  which  I  am  taking  you; 
it  is  just  as  well  to  prepare." 

"I  have  no  desire  to  be  curious,"  Allard  began 
tentatively. 

"But  you  naturally  would  like  to  know  what 
is  happening.  Indeed,  it  is  necessary  that  you 
know."  He  paused  an  instant.  "Do  you  recall 
what  I  said  to  you  last  night  of  my  country,  of 
its  intrigue  and  wrong  and  lack  of  faith?" 

"Yes." 

The  shadows  deepened  across  the  fine  dark 
face.  Watching  Stanief,  it  seemed  to  Allard  as 
if  the  rose-hued  salon  lost  a  little  of  its  bright- 
ness also,  as  if  both  man  and  room  remembered 
hours  not  happy. 

97 


THE   GAME   AND   THE   CANDLE 

"All  my  life  I  have  walked  in  the  shadow  of 
one  man's  hate,"  Stanief  said  quietly.  "I  have 
known  it  watching  greedily  for  my  least  indis- 
cretion, heard  its  wild-beast  breathing  as  it 
crouched  beside  me  in  the  dark,  stepped  cau- 
tiously to  avoid  the  snares  it  spread  for  me. 
Unable  to  touch  me  openly  unless  I  myself 
stooped  from  inherited  safety,  my  enemy  has 
employed  every  secret  artifice  to  lure  me  into 
reach,  every  petty  goad  to  sting  me  to  a  mo- 
ment's forgetfulness.  I  never  have  taken  a 
friend,  conscious  that  one  would  be  forced  to 
betrayal  if  not  already  planning  it.  I  learned 
long  ago  that  the  bright-eyed,  fragile  ladies 
of  the  court  were  not  for  me  to  trust.  Living 
in  the  center  of  a  dazzling  pageant,  the  focus 
of  a  dazzling  hate,  I  have  had  just  one  hope 
to  carry  with  me.  Not  a  pleasant  hope,  but  it  is 
about  to  be  fulfilled.  My  enemy  is  dying." 

"The  Emperor — " 

"Exactly." 

Allard  remained  silent,  understanding  Vasili 
98 


LONG   LIVE    THE    KING 

better  now.  Stanief  rose  and  walked  to  the  win- 
dow, gazing  out  over  the  tumbling  field  of  water. 
When  he  returned  it  was  with  a  touch  of  scarlet 
burning  in  his  clear  cheek. 

"Before  I  started  on  this  voyage,  taken  at  his 
command,"  he  said,  "I  bade  farewell  to  my  im- 
perial uncle.  Ill,  grimly  and  helplessly  con- 
scious of  the  ultimate  end,  he  looked  up  from  his 
pillows  at  me.  'Your  day  is  coming,'  he  de- 
clared. *I  know  how  long  your  regency  will  last, 
how  completely  my  son  will  be  left  your  toy  and 
victim.  But  I  shall  wait  on  the  threshold  of  the 
next  world,  Feodor  Stanief,  until  you  come  and 
I  see  your  punishment.  Now  go.'  It  was  the 
confession  of  failure,  the  laying  down  of  the 
cards,  the  first  frankness  between  us." 

The  two  men  looked  at  each  other. 

"I  am  probably  Regent  now,"  Stanief  added. 

Allard's  eyes  did  not  leave  the  other's;  no 
doubt  clouded  the  unwavering  confidence  of  his 
regard. 

"  'A  Stanief  guards  his  own',"  he  quoted.  "If 
99 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

I  were  the  little  prince,  I  should  have  no  fear, 
monseigneur." 

Stanief  lifted  his  head,  the  sunlight  flashed 
back  to  the  room  before  his  expression. 

"Thank  you,"  he  answered  proudly.  "And 
from  emperor  to  peasant  I  could  find  no  one  else 
to  grant  me  so  much." 

"But —    I  do  not  understand." 
"Then  you  have  not  read  our  history." 
Allard  turned  to  the  gates  of  memory,  and 
gazing  down  dim  vistas  at  many  a  vague  crime 
and  ambitious  treachery,  remained  silent. 

"My  cousin  Adrian,"  Stanief  resumed,  after  a 
moment  in  which  he  also  looked  across  the  past, 
"by  this  time  perhaps  my  Emperor  Adrian  is 
fourteen  years  old.  Not  until  he  is  seventeen 
can  he  be  crowned  and  take  the  government  in 
his  own  grasp ;  that  is,  the  country  is  absolutely 
ruled  by  me  for  the  next  three  years.  By  me; 
but  those  years  will  be  a  splendid  warfare,  a 
struggle  muffled  in  cloth-of-gold,  a  ceaseless 
vigil  beside  which  my  old  life  was  peace.  The 
100 


LONG   LIVE    THE    KING 

country  is  divided  into  two  great  parties:  those 
who  wish  me  to  take  the  crown,  and  from  whom 
I  must  protect  Adrian;  those  who  wish  to  rid 
themselves  of  me  and  govern  as  they  choose 
through  the  child-emperor.  Remember  that  nei- 
ther faction  believes  I  shall  ever  permit  my 
cousin  to  take  the  Empire  from  me.  Loyalty, 
honor,  justice, — those  are  pretty,  extinct 
phrases  of  chivalry  to  their  minds." 

Allard  made  a  movement  of  protest. 

"Surely  not  so  bad,  surely  not  nowadays," 
he  objected  incredulously. 

"Our  country  is  still  medieval,"  Stanief  re- 
torted. "I  tell  you  not  one-half  the  fact.  But, 
I  make  no  pose  of  virtue  and  perhaps  I  am 
merely  obstinately  resolved  not  to  do  what  is 
expected  of  me,  but  I  will  carry  this  through 
and  crown  my  cousin  on  his  seventeenth  birth- 
day, if  I  live." 

His  voice  hardened  into  steel,  his  velvet  eyes 
flashed  through  their  curtaining  lashes.     Allard 
rose  impulsively  and  held  out  his  hand. 
101 


"  'Soit  que  salt*  we  said  last  night,"  he  cried. 
"Let  me  aid;  stand  or  fall." 

"A  desperate  cause,"  warned  Stanief,  keep- 
ing the  hand  in  his  firm  clasp.  "For  day  and 
night  my  enemies  will  pour  their  poison  into 
Adrian's  ears ;  Adrian,  whose  father  must 
already  have  taught  him  distrust  and  dread  of 
me.  It  may  very1  well  be  that  when  I  resign  the 
absolute  power  to  the  young  Emperor,  he  himself 
will  first  use  it  to  crush  me." 

"Impossible !  And  if  it  be  so,  at  least  we  shall 
have  fought  the  good  fight." 

"Then  open  the  lists  to  Don  Quixote  and 
Sancho  Panza.  We  will  live  our  own  way  for 
these  three  years,  and  abide  the  decision." 

There  was  no  question  of  etiquette  between 
the  two  who  stood  together,  with  laughter  glanc- 
ing across  the  surface  of  an  earnestness  too  deep 
for  speech.  Allard  had  no  way  of  divining  that 
the  Stanief  he  knew  did  not  exist  for  any  one 
else ;  that  the  reserve  of  a  lifetime  was  broken  in 
their  friendship. 

102 


LONG   LIVE    THE    KING 

They  sat  down  again,  presently, 

"Long  ago,  when  Adrian  was  very  much 
younger,  I  used  to  see  him  more  intimately," 
Stanief  mused  rather  sadly.  "Then  I  never  con- 
sidered a  regency,  believing  the  Emperor  would 
live  until  his  son  could  take  his  place.  I  was 
weary  even  then  of  the  constant  strife  and  sus- 
picion; I  longed  to  make  a  friend  of  my  small 
cousin  and  some  day  find  calm  under  his  rule. 
But  the  Emperor  interfered,  and  we  have  seen 
each  other  only  formally  since.  Now  comes  your 
part,  John.  I  shall  place  you  in  Adrian's  suite 
as  his  personal  attendant.  I  want  you  to  do 
what  I  can  not ;  to  guard  him  from  hour  to  hour, 
as  far  as  possible,  from  my  self-styled  friends 
and  his  enemies.  He  will  like  you, — you  have 
that  gift." 

"Gift?"Allard  puzzled. 

"The   gift  of  being  liked.      And  being  an 

American,  you  will  escape  much  of  the  jealousy 

which  would  attach  to  one  who  could  demand 

more.    It  is  absolutely  necessary  for  me  to  have 

103 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

some  one  near  my  cousin  whom  I  can  trust  im- 
plicitly." 

"I  will  do  anything  you  wish,"  he  answered 
simply.  "Your  purpose — let  me  serve  it  also. 
Only  I  will  have  to  ask  you  to  teach  me  a  bit ;  I 
am  afraid  my  ideas  of  the  most  formal  court  in 
Europe — " 

"I  shall  teach  you  nothing  whatever,"  Stanief 
declared,  with  his  sudden  smile.  "Let  the  impe- 
rial Adrian  have  that  amusement.  Do  not  forget 
what  I  have  implied  to  those  you  meet  here :  that 
you  are  merely  my  secretary  as  a  whim,  and  are 
in  reality  my  friend.  You  understand?" 

Allard  did  understand, — the  elaborate  luxury 
with  which  he  had  been  surrounded,  the  defer- 
ence of  even  Count  Rosal,  the  caution  of  Vasili. 

"I  would  rather  stay  with  you  than  be  a 
child's  plaything,"  he  said  wistfully.  "But  it  is 
all  right." 

Stanief  regarded  him  for  an  instant,  then 
reached  for  a  cigarette. 

"You  will  be  with  me.    But  if  you  have  any 


LONG   LIVE    THE    KING 

idea  that  Adrian  is  like  a  child,  wait,"  he  ob- 
served dryly.  "And  now  let  us  enjoy  the  voy- 
age, since  it  is  our  last  quiet  period  for  several 
years." 

Before  Allard  could  reply,  an  agitated  knock 
fell  on  the  door  and  Marzio  admitted  the  pale 
and  breathless  Rosal. 

"Well?"  Stanief  questioned,  instinctively  ris- 
ing. 

Allard  rose  with  him,  and  standing  they  re- 
ceived the  message. 

"I  regret  to  report,  by  wireless  from  New 
York,  the  death  of  his  Imperial  Majesty  the 
Emperor,  at  noon  to-day." 

A  brief  hush,  then  Rosal  again  in  nervous 
conclusion : 

"His  Imperial  Majesty  the  Emperor  Adrian 
requests  the  return  of  your  Royal  Highness  to 
the  capital." 


105 


CHAPTER   VH 

ALLEGIANCE 

You  are  losing  your  game,  my 
John." 

AJlard  laughed  in  frank  admission, — a  tanned, 
bright-eyed  Allard  after  the  long  voyage. 

"I  am  stupid  to-night,  monseigneur.  It  is 
difficult  to  sit  here  and  play  chess  when  we  are 
anchored  at  last  before  our  goal,  the  city  of 
excitements.  One  has  the  feeling  that  one  should 
go  ashore  at  once." 

"When  one  arrives  in  a  port  near  midnight, 
one  does  not  arrive  officially  until  next  morning. 
Since  my  first  act  must  be  to  go  direct  to  the 
palace,  you  will  comprehend  that  the  hour  is 
unfortunate." 

"Yes.    Although  every  one  must  know." 

"Certainly.  The  approach  of  the  Nadeja 
was  undoubtedly  signified  to  the  Emperor  hours 
106 


ALLEGIANCE 

ago.  Play,  play;  to-morrow  will  come  without 
our  aid." 

Allard  moved  a  piece  at  random. 

"I  am  not  the  only  one  impatient,"  he  de- 
fended. "Count  Rosal  and  Vasili  spent  the 
evening  hanging  over  the  rail  toward  the  lights 
of  the  city,  and  telling  me  all  we  would  do,  from 
seeing  Mademoiselle  Liline  dance  to  trying  that 
new  automobile.  They  went  to  bed  at  last  from 
sheer  exasperation." 

"They  do  not  have  to  stay  awake  to  amuse 
his  Royal  Highness." 

"Oh,  I  could  not  sleep,  monseigneur.  But  I 
play  bad  chess." 

Stanief  shot  a  glance  at  him ;  perhaps  he  him- 
self could  have  confessed  a  similar  inability,  if 
he  had  chosen,  in  spite  of  his  indolent  impas- 
sivity. 

"You  assuredly  do,"  he  agreed.  "Checkmate. 
Set  up  the  board  again  and  avenge  yourself." 

The  lap  of  the  calm  water  against  the  ship's 
side  marked  the  rising  of  the  tide ;  the  roar  and 
107 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

hum  of  the  huge  city  came  strangely  after  ocean 
silences.  On  the  river's  bank  a  girl  was  singing 
a  minor,  half-Gipsy  air  which  penetrated  at 
intervals,  almost  as  if  with  timidity,  into  the  rose- 
and-gold  salon.  Allard  gathered  his  straying 
thoughts  together  and  compelled  his  attention 
to  the  game.  They  are  changing  the  watch  on 
deck,  he  reflected  absently;  he  heard  the  move- 
ment and  agitation. 

For  any  one  to  disturb  Stanief  unsummoned 
was  rare;  for  the  door  to  be  opened  like  this, 
without  permission,  was  unprecedented.  But 
Marzio  offered  no  excuse  as  he  held  aside  the 
heavy  portiere.  Stanief  lifted  his  eyes  languidly, 
then  sprang  to  his  feet  with  an  abruptness  that 
sent  the  chessmen  rattling  over  the  floor.  Al- 
lard, startled,  rose  also  and  turned,  to  draw  back 
mechanically  into  the  shadow  and  leave  host  and 
guest  face  to  face.  Marzio  dropped  the  curtain, 
closing  the  door  softly  as  he  went  out. 

The  slight,  rather  frail  boy  clad  in  deep 
mourning  was  not  unlike  Stanief  himself  in  fine, 
108 


ALLEGIANCE 

dark  beauty  of  feature,  and  there  was  a  com- 
posed stateliness  worthy  of  both  in  the  gesture 
with  which  he  extended  his  small  hand  in  greet- 
ing. Stanief  moved  forward  without  a  word, 
and,  kneeling,  bent  his  head  to  the  slim  fingers 
for  which  the  one  great  jewel  seemed  too  heavy. 
Still  on  his  knee,  in  constraint  of  their  difference 
in  height,  he  received  the  young  Emperor's  for- 
mal embrace. 

"I  am  glad  you  have  returned,  cousin,"  the 
boy  said,  with  a  grave  dignity  of  speech  corre- 
sponding to  his  bearing.  "To-morrow — I  wished 
to  see  you  before  then." 

Stanief  looked  into  the  eyes  on  a  level  with 
his  own,  before  rising. 

"I  shall  hold  this  visit  always  in  my  heart, 
sire,"  he  answered,  his  tone  infinitely  gentle.  "I 
have  not  been  given  many  such  pleasant  memo- 
ries." 

"It  is  a  long  time  since  we  saw  each  other; 
you  did  not  come  to  me — " 

"That  was  never  my  fault,  sire." 
109 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

"No,"  he  conceded  calmly.  "I  knew  it  was 
not,  although  they  told  me  so." 

"I  am  grateful  for  so  much  justice.  Permit 
me—" 

Adrian  took  the  arm-chair  which  the  other 
advanced,  and  himself  indicated  a  seat  very  near 
for  his  cousin.  He  had,  of  course,  seen  Allard 
on  entering,  but,  accustomed  to  the  constant 
presence  of  others,  lent  no  further  attention  to 
the  gentleman  who  remained  standing  at  the 
shadowed  end  of  the  salon.  On  Stanief  his  large, 
intent  eyes  were  fixed  with  an  imperiously  eager 
scrutiny. 

"You  are  the  same  as  always,  as  you  were  last 
winter,"  he  declared  slowly.  "Dalmorov  has  in- 
sisted that  I  would  find  you  very  different,  now." 

"The  Baron  Dalmorov  is  more  than  kind," 
Stanief  replied,  betrayed  into  his  unusual  frown. 
"May  I  ask  why  I  should  have  changed?" 

"Because  you  are  Regent,  and  you  govern  all." 

"I  beg  pardon,  sire;  if  I  am  Regent,  you  are 
none  the  less  Emperor." 

110 


ALLEGIANCE 

Over  the  young  face  swept  an  expression  that 
so  altered,  so  hardened  it,  that  it  was  as  if  an- 
other and  dual  self  came  into  view. 

"Then  I  rule  you,  as  my  father  did,"  he 
flashed. 

Allard  gasped  in  his  corner ;  was  this  the  child 
of  fourteen  whom  he  had  expected  to  amuse? 
And  not  as  to  a  child  was  given  the  difficult 
answer  by  the  one  who  knew  him. 

"Yes,  sire,"  Stanief  returned  steadily. 
"But—" 

"But!    You  say  but?" 

"May  I  speak  frankly?  You  will  find  many 
people  to  flatter  you,  to  tell  you  facile,  surface 
truths ;  let  me  for  once  tell  exactly  my  meaning. 
Assuredly  you  do  rule  me  and  your  country,  so 
far  as  the  possibilities  permit.  Yet  you  are  sur- 
rounded by  those  who  hate  me,  and  even  you, 
sire,  who  would  joyfully  see  us  both  fall  if  they 
might  mount  upon  the  ruins.  Many  times  I 
may  see  what  is  hidden  from  you,  and  I  must 
act  accordingly.  Sire,  it  is  my  intention  to  hold 
111 


THE    GAME   AND   THE    CANDLE 

this  seething  Empire  of  yours  in  my  grasp,  to 
force  it  to  bend  or  break  in  its  stubborn  wilful- 
ness,  until  three  years  from  now  I  give  it  back 
to  you  a  tranquil  government.  But — and  for 
this  I  said  'but' — if  necessary,  I  shall  act  against 
your  will,  as  against  all  other  forces,  until  I 
carry  my  purpose  to  its  end  and  have  you 
crowned  on  your  seventeenth  birthday." 

He  drew  a  swift  breath,  caught  by  his  own 
vehemence,  his  eyes  never  leaving  the  unchildish 
ones  opposite. 

"And  on  the  day  of  your  coronation,  sire," 
he  concluded,  with  a  touch  of  sadness,  "you  will 
rule  without  the  but.  Call  me  to  account  then ; 
I  assure  you  I  shall  have  no  friends  to  protest." 

Allard's  own  heart  quickened  at  the  fire  of 
determination  in  the  other's  low  voice.  If  only 
it  had  been  a  man  who  met  that  splendid  frank- 
ness, he  mourned  furiously,  not  a  child,  a  sullen 
child.  For  Adrian  did  not  move  at  all,  or  an- 
swer the  daring  declaration.  His  head  averted, 
he  looked  down  at  the  floor. 
112 


ALLEGIANCE 

Stanief  waited  a  little,  and  the  light  died  out 
of  his  face. 

"You  do  not  understand  me,  sire,"  he  said, 
very  quietly.  "Or,  understanding,  you  do  not 
pardon  one  who  serves  you  even  against  your 
will.  I  am  thirty-two  years  old;  it  is  my  com- 
fort to  believe  that  when  you  reach  my  age,  when 
jealousy  and  anger  have  passed  away  and  per- 
haps taken  me  with  them,  that  you  will  think 
differently  of  Feodor  Stanief.  Will  you  allow 
me  to  order  some  refreshment  brought?"  he 
added. 

Adrian  moved  then,  and  the  color  rushed  over 
his  cheeks  as  he  struck  one  small  open  palm  on 
the  arm  of  his  chair. 

"I  understand  you,"  he  cried  passionately. 
"Oh,  I  understand!  Can  I  trust  you?  It  is 
that,  Feodor.  No  one  speaks  his  thoughts  to 
me;  every  one  lies.  The  Emperor  told  me  that 
many  times  before  he  died.  'Do  not  trust  your 
cousin,'  he  whispered  to  me  on  the  last  day. 
'Then  I  must  trust  Dalmorov?'  I  asked.  'No,' 
113 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

he  said,  'no ;  better  Feodor  than  him.  Trust  no 
one.'  And  now  you  ask  it  of  me." 

"Yet  you  came  here  to-night,  sire,"  Stanief 
reminded  him. 

"Because  I  must  trust  some  one.  Because  I 
know  Dalmorov  and  his  falseness,  while  I  do  not 
know  you,  cousin." 

"Then  I  ask  you  only  to  suspend  judgment 
until  you  do,  sire.  A  regent  there  must  be,  I,  or 
another  if  I  die — " 

"I  would  rather  have  you  than  any  one  else 
in  the  world." 

"There  is  no  one — I  speak  knowing  our  court 
— no  one  else  whose  pride  and  honor  so  compel 
him  to  loyalty.  And  I  stand  in  grievous  need 
of  your  protection,  my  imperial  cousin." 

Adrian's  head  lifted  haughtily. 

"Of  my  protection !    You,  now  ?" 

"I,  now.  Through  you,  if  you  lend  your 
name  to  their  use,  my  enemies  can  make  the  task 
I  have  set  myself  difficult  beyond  description." 

The  kindling  fire  had  caught,  at  last;  with 


ALLEGIANCE 

the  first  boyish  impulsiveness  of  the  interview 
Adrian's  response  flashed  to  meet  the  appeal. 

"You  need  not  fear  that !  You  need  not  fear 
me." 

"Thank  you,  sire,"  Stanief  answered,  simply 
and  gravely. 

There  was  a  pause.  Allard  wondered,  as  he 
discreetly  observed  the  two,  just  what  would 
have  been  the  result  if  Stanief  had  brought  less 
convincing  seriousness  to  answer  his  cousin's 
sensitive  pride  and  incredulity. 

"I  have  come  alone,"  Adrian  mused,  with  a 
half-sigh,  "with  Gregor.  He  does  what  I  wish 
because  he  knows  Dalmorov  hates  him  and  he  is 
afraid  to  stand  alone.  So  when  I  bade  him 
bring  me  here  secretly  to-night,  after  I  had  pre- 
sumably retired,  he  obeyed.  I  like  to  be  obeyed." 
The  expression  of  several  moments  before  re- 
turned transiently. 

A  playfully   earnest  warning  of  the  other 
cousin's   recurred  to  the  listener;  it  appeared 
that  both  had  "the  habit  of  domination." 
115 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

"And  so  I  must  return  at  once,  or  they  may 
discover  I  have  gone.  But  I  am  glad  I  came, 
cousin ;  it  seems  easier  now." 

"Sire,"  Stanief  said,  and  somehow  his  tone 
made  Allard  feel  suddenly  abashed,  as  one  who 
stands  before  a  thing  not  for  his  eyes,  "there 
will  come  a  day  when  you  will  stand  in  the  great 
cathedral  to  receive  the  oaths  of  allegiance  of 
your  nobles.  There  will  be  all  ceremony,  all 
solemnity,  but — take  mine  now.  The  one  I  shall 
give  you  then  can  mean  no  more.  You  have 
been  taught  to  have  no  faith  in  such  promises ; 
when  you  receive  mine  for  the  second  time,  I 
hope  it  will  have  gained  some  value  in  your 
sight." 

"I  wish  it  had  now ;  I  almost  think  it  has,"  he 
answered,  with  a  bitterness  and  energy  singu- 
larly strange  from  his  boyish  lips.  "I  want  to 
have  faith  in  you,  cousin." 

He  rose,  and  Stanief  with  him. 

"I  care  for  nothing,"  he  added,  reverting  to 
the  previous  invitation.  "I  have  already  stayed 
116 


ALLEGIANCE 

too  long.  Monsieur,"  his  eyes  went  to  Allard 
for  the  first  time,  "monsieur  is  the  American 
gentleman  who  sailed  with  you  from  New  York  ?" 

Allard  came  forward  in  response  to  a  glance 
from  Stanief. 

"Sire,  I  have  the  honor  to  present  Monsieur 
John  Allard,  whom  I  have  persuaded  to  come 
with  me  because  I  also  have  need  of  one  friend 
whom  I  can  trust." 

He  was  after  all  so  pathetic  in  his  lonely  and 
sophisticated  youth,  this  child.  Saluting  him, 
Allard's  clear  gray  eyes  involuntarily  expressed 
all  their  sympathy  and  warm  kindliness.  And, 
meeting  the  regard,  Adrian  gave  him  his  only 
smile  of  the  evening. 

"It  is  easy  to  trust  you  others,  Monsieur  Al- 
lard," he  said  wistfully.  "I  wish  you  were  my 
friend  instead  of  Feodor's." 

"Is  it  not  the  same  thing,  sire  ?"  Allard  ques- 
tioned. 

"Is  it?" 

"I  sincerely  believe  so,  sire." 
117 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

"Bring  Monsieur  Allard  with  you  to-morrow, 
cousin,"  Adrian  directed,  lifting  his  gaze  to 
Stanief .  "And  good  night." 

"You  will  allow  me  to  accompany  your  return, 
sire?" 

"Certainly  not, — to  attract  all  the  capital !" 

"Pardon,  I  meant  as  secretly  as  Gregor  at- 
tends you;  who — again  pardon  me — is  scarcely 
attendance  enough." 

Adrian  shook  his  head  decisively. 

"Your  people  on  the  yacht — " 

"They  are  not  already  aware  that  your  Im- 
perial Majesty  is  here?" 

"You  can  order  them  to  be  silent,"  he  retorted, 
with  angry  irritation. 

"Exactly,  sire,"  said  Stanief,  and  waited. 

Adrian  was  nothing  if  not  swift  of  thought ; 
he  drew  the  inference  intended  and  conceded  the 
point. 

"Very  well,"  he  yielded.  "As  you  will,  cousin. 
Good  night,  Monsieur  Allard." 

He  held  out  his  hand,  and  quite  unconsciously 
118 


ALLEGIANCE 

Allard  took  the  little  fingers  in  his  warm  clasp. 
Stanief,  holding  aside  the  curtain,  smiled  to 
himself;  but  Adrian  accepted  the  Americanism 
equably  and  his  last  glance  was  all  friendly. 

It  was  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  when  Stan- 
ief reentered  the  Nadeja's  salon.  Allard  was  still 
there,  and  rose  expectantly  to  receive  him. 

"I  waited,"  he  explained. 

"You  need  not  have,"  Stanief  replied,  with  all 
his  usual  cool  serenity.  "Go  and  rest;  to-mor- 
row the  battle  opens.  Only — " 

"Only,  monseigneur?" 

He  came  over  to  the  table  to  find  the  tiny 
gold-tipped  cigarettes. 

"Only  it  was  not  with  you  I  played  chess  to- 
night, John,  but  with  Dalmorov  and  the  late 
Emperor,  my  uncle.  And  I  claim  check." 


119 


CHAPTER    VIII 

TO    MEET    THE    EMPEROR 

THERE  are  some  periods  which  offer  to  the 
backward  glance  of  memory  rather  a  blur 
of  blended  color  than  a  distinct  picture,  a  rich 
and  shining  tapestry  in  which  no  one  thread  can 
be  distinguished.  So  always  to  Allard  seemed 
that  first  week  in  the  country  he  learned  to  call 
home.  The  stately  ceremonies  of  StaniePs  re- 
ception and  assumption  of  the  regency ;  the  daz- 
zle and  pageantry  of  the  court  even  when  thus 
subdued  by  mourning;  his  own  sudden  impor- 
tance as  the  favorite  of  the  actual  sovereign,  all 
merged  into  a  glittering  confusion  through 
which  he  moved  automatically. 

But  there  were  two  incidents  which  detached 
themselves  from  the  bright  background  and 
always  remained  with  him.  The  first  was  the 
first  morning  when  Stanief  formally  met  the 


TO   MEET   THE    EMPEROR 

Emperor  at  the  palace;  and,  as  he  had  stooped 
to  the  salute,  Adrian  had  deliberately  given  him 
an  embrace  so  markedly  affectionate  that  even 
Allard  felt  the  significant  thrill  that  ran  through 
the  room.  And  then,  even  while  the  unusual 
color  still  flushed  Stanief's  dark  cheek,  Adrian 
shot  a  glance  at  a  sharp-faced  man  opposite,  a 
glance  so  sneering,  so  bitterly  triumphant,  that 
the  straightforward  American  actually  shrank 
from  the  revelation  of  dual  thought.  Evidently 
the  embrace  was  given  less  to  please  Stanief  than 
to  annoy  this  other.  Seeing  the  man's  rigidly 
held  face  beneath  the  ordeal,  he  knew  without 
question  that  this  was  the  Baron  Dalmorov 
whose  desire  in  life  was  to  prevent  this  very 
friendship  between  the  cousins. 

Never  again  did  Allard  make  the  mistake  of 
measuring  Adrian  by  his  few  years. 

The  second  event  was  near  the  end  of  the 
week, — one  noon  when  Stanief  came  home  from 
a  visit  to  the  palace  and  found  Allard  alone. 

"Do  you  remember  the  trust  you  offered  to 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

take  for  me?"  he  asked  abruptly.  And,  without 
waiting  an  assent,  "You  are  summoned  to  it 
already." 

"Monseigneur  ?" 

"The  Emperor  this  morning  asked  me  to  add 
you  to  his  household.  It  is  more  than  I  hoped 
to  gain,  that  he  should  himself  make  the  request ; 

yet—" 

They  looked  at  each  other,  Allard  startled  and 
half  dismayed,  Stanief's  velvet  eyes  less  tranquil 
than  usual. 

"Yet  I  shall  miss  you,  John,"  he  concluded, 
his  voice  a  caress. 

The  regret  and  the  tone  lay  unforgotten  in 
the  closed  room  of  Allard's  heart.  Years  after, 
he  could  turn  and  find  them  there. 

So  from  the  gorgeous  household  of  the  Regent 
one  man  passed  to  the  still  more  gorgeous  pal- 
ace. Vasili  and  Count  Rosal  regarded  him  with 
respectful  envy;  he  was  elected  to  membership 
of  the  two  clubs  of  the  capital's  jeunesse  doree, 
and  overwhelmed  with  friends  and  invitations. 
122 


TO    MEET    THE    EMPEROR 

But  the  Emperor  was  not  at  all  inclined  to  let 
his  new  companion  remain  away  from  him  very 
much,  and  Allard  was  quite  as  willing  to  stay 
at  what  he  privately  considered  the  post  of  duty. 
So  it  happened  that  he  went  riding  with  Adrian 
more  frequently  than  he  went  motoring  with 
Rosal,  and  accepted  readily  a  routine  which  left 
him  few  hours  unoccupied. 

It  was  not  possible  to  live  at  the  palace  with- 
out learning  many  things.  But  it  required  just 
one  day  for  Allard  to  learn  enough  of  Adrian  to 
make  him  smile  at  ever  having  thought  Stanief 
imperious.  The  desire  for  absolute  dominion 
and  power  over  those  near  him  was  the  most 
obvious  characteristic  of  this  descendant  of  a 
hundred  autocrats.  Moreover,  he  tolerated  no 
contradiction,  no  evasion  of  a  resolve. 

"You  are  not  rich  in  your  own  right,  Mon- 
sieur Allard?"  he  said  one  day,  with  his  mature 
directness  and  self-possession. 

They  were  strolling  up  and  down  a  terrace 
overlooking  the  river,  and  Allard  involuntarily 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

paused  in  surprise  and  with  no  slight  embarrass- 
ment. 

"No  longer,  sire,"  he  admitted,  truth  coming 
as  the  one  course. 

"My  cousin, — you  served  him  as  his  secre- 
tary?" 

"Yes,  sire." 

Adrian  sat  down  on  a  broad  marble  seat  under 
the  trees,  lifting  his  head  with  the  movement 
usually  to  be  translated  as  a  signal  of  danger. 

"You  serve  me  at  present,  not  the  Regent.  As 
one  of  my  household,  you  will  accept  from  me  in 
future." 

"Pardon  me,  sire — " 

"I  will  have  it  so,  monsieur.  You  must  be  all 
mine,  all.  I  shall  speak  to  Feodor.  Why  do 
you  object?  You  do,  then,  consider  yourself 
his,  not  mine?" 

"Sire,  you  misinterpret;  I  am  assuredly  of 
your  service." 

"Then  you  accept?" 

Allard  met  the  flashing  gaze  helplessly;  it 


TO    MEET    THE    EMPEROR 

was  the  other  Adrian,  distrustful,  jealous, 
haughty,  whom  he  faced  and  to  whom  he  yielded. 

"It  is  as  you  wish,  sire,  of  course.  I  thank 
you." 

"You  do  not,"  he  retorted  shrewdly,  although 
his  brow  relaxed.  "Why  did  you  resist  ?" 

Again  Allard  took  refuge  in  the  simple  truth, 
a  little  sadly. 

"We  Americans,  sire,  are  not  accustomed  to 
serve,  I  am  afraid.  We  would  stand  alone.  If 
I  could  accept  the  Grand  Duke  Feodor's  protec- 
tion without  such  reluctance,  it  was  because  of 
old  reasons  and  old  love." 

"For  him?" 

"Yes,  sire." 

"Do  you  know  Dalmorov  secretly  urges  to  me 
your  love  for  Feodor  as  a  cause  for  dismissing 
you?" 

"I  had  not  known  it,  although  I  might  have 
guessed.  But  you  could  not  believe  me,  sire,  if 
I  told  you  I  did  not  love  him." 

"No;  you  are  very  easy  to  read.  And  I  know 
125 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

more:  I  know  that  Feodor  is  glad  to  have  you 
near  me,  although  he  is  fond  of  keeping  you 
with  himself.  Why?" 

Allard  regarded  his  keen  young  inquisitor 
candidly. 

"Because — I  use  his  own  phrase,  sire — be- 
cause I  am  the  only  one  that  he  feels  he  can 
wholly  trust." 

Adrian's  eyes  opened,  then  he  laughed  out- 
right and  the  sinister  personality  faded  alto- 
gether from  his  expression. 

"You  tell  me  that  yourself,  Monsieur  Allard? 
Oh,  if  Dalmorov  could  hear  you!  Never  mind; 
perhaps  Feodor  is  deceiving  you,  perhaps  you 
are  both  sincere,  but  certainly  you  yourself  are 
all  truthful.  His  turn  also  comes  to-day,  my 
cousin's." 

"I  do  not  understand — " 

"It  is  not  necessary.    I  am  going  to  receive 
him  here,  this  morning.    After  he  arrives,  pray 
stay  at  the  other  end  of  the  terrace  and  let  no 
one  pass  to  disturb  us." 
126 


TO    MEET    THE    EMPEROR 

This  daily  visit  of  the  Regent  had  become  a 
matter  of  course.  Sometimes  it  found  Adrian 
surrounded  by  many  people,  sometimes  alone, 
more  often  with  Allard,  as  now.  And  never  was 
he  so  sweetly  gracious  to  Stanief  as  in  Dal- 
morov's  presence ;  although,  as  Stanief  knew  per- 
fectly well,  at  other  times  he  listened  without 
rebuke  to  the  baron's  constant  insinuations  and 
warnings.  If  the  young  Emperor  had  confidence 
in  no  one,  most  assuredly  no  one  could  risk  a 
judgment  of  his  real  thoughts.  Only  one  senti- 
ment he  took  no  care  to  conceal:  for  whatever 
reason,  he  liked  the  regular  visit  and  would  suf- 
fer nothing  to  prevent  it. 

However  puzzled  by  the  last  suggestion,  Al- 
lard could  only  comply  with  the  request  and 
retire  as  Stanief  came  down  the  steps  a  moment 
later.  And  Stanief,  seeing  Adrian  waiting 
alone,  left  his  aide  at  the  head  of  the  terrace  and 
alone  came  to  him.  So,  Vasili  at  one  end  of  the 
grassy  ledge,  Allard  at  the  other,  the  cousins 
were  for  once  unobserved. 

127      ' 


THE    GAME   AND   THE   CANDLE 

Adrian's  expression  was  unusually  animated 
as  Stanief  bent  over  his  hand. 

"Do  you  know  why  I  wished  to  see  you  out 
here  in  quietness,  cousin?"  he  demanded. 

"I  am  afraid  not,  sire,"  Stanief  confessed, 
smiling. 

"Then  sit  down  here,"  he  touched  the  bench 
on  which  he  himself  was  seated,  "and  I  will  tell 
you." 

Stanief  obeyed,  and  Adrian  surveyed  his 
stately  kinsman  with  earnest,  though  doubting 
intentness. 

"That  night  on  the  Nadeja"  he  at  last  said, 
"when  you  told  me  that  I  governed,  'but' — were 
you  in  earnest  ?  It  amused  me  to  tell  Dalmorov 
— not  all  you  said  or  when  you  said  it,  of  course 
— yet  some  of  that.  I  told  him  you  had  prom- 
ised to  do  as  I  wished,  and  he  insisted  that  you 
played  with  me.  Were  you  in  earnest,  I  won- 
der?" 

"Absolutely  in  earnest,"  Stanief  answered, 
too  well  trained  in  self-mastery  to  betray  his 
128 


TO    MEET    THE    EMPEROR 

irritation  at  being  discussed  with  his  rival  in 
the  game  of  the  future. 

"  'But* — "  Adrian  repeated,  and  sat  silent  for 
an  instant.  "Were  you  ever  in  love  with  a 
woman,  cousin?" 

The  question  was  so  unexpected  that  Stanief 
started  and  replied  almost  at  random : 

"No,  sire." 

"Dalmorov  says  that  you  were,  long  ago." 

"Dalmorov,"  the  other  began,  then  checked 
himself,  his  tone  chilling.  "The  incident  to 
which  Baron  Dalmorov  doubtless  refers,  sire, 
hardly  answers  your  question.  Ten  years  ago, 
when  I  was  less  than  twenty-two,  I  was  briefly 
attracted  toward  a  lady  of  the  court.  The  affair 
died  in  its  birth,  on  my  discovering  that  made- 
moiselle was  acting  as  the  paid  spy  of  the  Em- 
peror, your  father.  Since  then  I  have  thought 
of  more  important  matters." 

Adrian  leaned  back,  his  slim  fingers  twisted 
together. 

"That  was  the  Countess  Sophia  Mirkoff?"  he 
129 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

supplemented  calmly,  "whose  husband  you  par- 
doned from  the  Two  Saints  last  month;  Dal- 
morov  informed  me.  Was  that  because  you  still 
care  ?" 

"No ;  because  I  would  not  have  her  imagine  I 
remember  enough  for  prejudice,"  Stanief  an- 
swered, with  glacial  indifference. 

The  approving  fire  shot  across  the  boy's  low- 
ered eyes,  his  pride  sprang  to  comprehension  of 
the  other's. 

"I  am  glad  it  is  so,"  he  said  sedately.  "I 
have  been  arranging  your  marriage,  cousin." 

If  the  terrace  had  crumbled  beneath  them, 
Stanief  could  have  been  no  more  astounded  than 
at  this. 

"I  beg  your  pardon !"  he  gasped. 

"Why  not?  It  is  my  privilege,"  Adrian  re- 
turned, not  moving. 

Stanief  opened  his  lips,  and  closed  them  again. 

The  green  and  gold  garden,  the  blue  river  and 

white  city  spread  below,  swam  in  a  dazzle  of 

color.     He  had  never  been  more   deeply   an- 

130 


TO   MEET    THE    EMPEROR 

noyed,  or  more  furiously  angry  with  Dalmorov. 
But  habitual  self-control  again  aided  him. 

"I  have  no  desire  to  marry,  or  time  to  give 
to  such  a  distraction  at  present,  sire,"  he  an- 
swered. 

"You  would  have  to  marry  sooner  or  later, 
cousin." 

"Then  permit  it  to  be  later.  After  your  cor- 
onation, if  you  still  insist." 

Adrian's  small  mouth  set  in  a  firm  line  rival- 
ing the  Regent's  own. 

"I  wish  it  now.  I  have  arranged  that  you 
shall  marry  the  Princess  Iria  of  Spain." 

"Sire,  forgive  me  if  I  presume  to  remind  your 
Imperial  Majesty  that  I  have  the  right  of  ques- 
tioning an  order  so  personal." 

The  steel-hard  anger  of  Stanief's  voice  struck 
fire  from  the  flint  of  Adrian's  determination. 

"So  I  rule  you!"  he  flashed  tempestuously. 
"So  you  meant  your  pretty  phrases !    Dalmorov 
was  right,  right.     You  played  with  me,  and  I 
will  never  pardon  you,  Feodor  Stanief." 
131 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

Stanief  drew  back,  realizing  all  the  trap  pre- 
pared for  him. 

"You  are  severe,  sire,"  he  retorted  with  dig- 
nity. "Perhaps  reflection  upon  how  unexpected 
this  is,  upon  how  serious  to  me  is  the  amuse- 
ment which  to  you  signifies  nothing,  may  win 
your  indulgence.  My  life  is  full  to  overflowing ; 
there  is  no  place  in  it  for  a  wife." 

"You  refuse?" 

Stanief  bit  his  lip. 

. 

"No,  sire;  I  protest." 

Adrian  stood  up,  and  the  other  perforce  rose 
with  him. 

"You  yourself  said  it,"  the  boy  stated,  his 
chest  heaving  with  passion.  "Now,  the  test.  I 
have  the  right;  you  know  it.  Do  you  govern 
me,  or  I  you?" 

"Sire—" 

"You  .or  I?" 

Stanief  looked  very  steadily  into  the  blazing 
young  eyes,  himself  colorless  with  the  restraint 
forced  upon  his  own  emotions. 
132 


"I  believed  there  were  two  promises  given  on 
the  Nadeja,  sire,"  he  answered,  never  so  quietly. 
"It  seems  that  only  one  is  to  be  remembered  and 
that  Baron  Dalmorov  wins.  But  I  make  no 
complaint;  I  suppose  your  last  question  was 
hardly  serious." 

"You  consent?" 

"I  obey,"  he  corrected  pointedly. 

At  once  victorious,  and  dominated  by  his  kins- 
man's bearing,  Adrian  flung  himself  on  the  seat 
and  motioned  the  other  to  the  place  beside  him. 
But  Stanief  remained  standing,  choosing  not  to 
see  the  invitation,  and  there  was  a  pause. 

"I  do  remember  my  promise,"  Adrian  de- 
clared, proudly  reverting  to  the  reproach  of  a 
few  moments  before.  "If  I  have  made  you  do 
this,  cousin,  it  was  not  to  please  Dalmorov." 

Stanief  bowed,  answering  nothing. 

"The  lady — you  will  have  heard  of  her.     I 
met  her  last  year  on  the  Riviera.     In  her  coun- 
try they  call  her  the  Gentle  Princess,  because — 
she  is.    And  she  is  very  lovely." 
133 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

Still  the  dark  face  was  unstirred.  His  object 
gained,  Adrian  fretted  and  chafed  before  the 
change  he  himself  had  wrought. 

"You  are  like  Monsieur  Allard;  you  do  not 
want  to  yield  your  will,"  he  said,  half  petulantly, 
half  haughtily.  "He  is  mine,  you  gave  him  to 
me ;  yet  he  did  not  like  it  because  I  said  that  no 
longer  shall  his  fortune  come  from  any  one  but 
me.  Why?" 

"He  is  an  American,  sire." 

"Why  does  that  make  a  difference  between 
you  and  me?" 

"I  love  him,  sire." 

The  cold  explanation  coincided  perfectly  with 
Allard's ;  illogically  Adrian  felt  a  pang  of  isola- 
tion before  this  friendship,  although  he  would 
not  have  believed  either  if  they  had  professed  the 
same  affection  for  him. 

"The  churches  are  ringing  the  hour,"  he  re- 
marked, the  sullen  child  struggling  with  the 
Emperor.  "If  you  wish  to  go,  as  usual,  you 
have  my  leave." 

134 


TO   MEET    THE    EMPEROR 

"Thank  you,  sire;  my  hours  are  indeed 
crowded." 

"You  are  willing  to  ask  the  Princess  Irfa  in 
marriage  ?" 

"As  you  dispose,  sire." 

Satisfied  and  dissatisfied,  Adrian  held  out  his 
hand. 

"You  are  not  content,  cousin,"  he  accused. 
"You  think  me  unkind." 

Stanief  paused  to  meet  the  wilful  gaze. 

"Perhaps  I  think  of  a  day  the  years  are 
bringing,  sire,"  he  replied  gravely,  and  bent  his 
head  still  lower  to  the  jeweled  fingers  which 
grasped  so  much, 

Adrian  flushed  scarlet. 

"No,"  he  denied  fiercely.  "Feodor,  you  can 
not  believe  I  will  fail  you  if  you  do  not  me?  You 
can  not  think  that  then,  after  that — " 

Stanief  did  not  help  him  at  all.  Taking  refuge 
in  wordlessness,  Adrian  left  the  sentence  un- 
finished and  let  his  cousin  go,  with  an  assump- 
tion of  dignity  that  hardly  concealed  the  sting 
135 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

of  the  rebuke  he  had  received.  But  he  did  not 
offer  to  relinquish  the  purpose  so  distasteful  to 
Stanief. 

For  half  an  hour  the  terrace  remained  hushed 
and  silent  under  the  noon  sunshine,  the  tree- 
shadows  wavering  back  and  forth  across  the 
small,  motionless  figure. 

"Monsieur  Allard !"  at  last  the  summons  rang. 

Allard  returned  serenely,  of  course  ignorant 
of  the  recent  stormy  discussion. 

"In  a  few  months,"  Adrian  stated,  without 
looking  at  him,  "the  Princess  Iria  de  Bourbon 
will  come  here  to  be  married  to  the  Regent.  I 
wish  you  to  be  one  of  the  escort  that  will  meet 
her  and  bring  her  to  the  capital." 

"But,  sire—" 

"You  are  surprised?" 

"I  did  not  know  the  Grand  Duke  contemplated 
marriage,  sire,"  Allard  explained,  stunned. 

"He  did  not ;  it  is  I  who  contemplated  it.  You 
will  go?" 

"Surely  there  will  be  many  more  fitted  for  such 
136 


TO    MEET    THE    EMPEROR 

an  honor.  Of  course  it  will  be  as  you  arrange, 
sire ;  but  I  would  rather  stay  here." 

Adrian  moved,  sighing;  his  lip  took  a  softer 
curve  and  for  the  first  time  he  almost  looked  his 
few  years.  "If  you  like  her,  monsieur,  Feodor 
will  like  her.  I  want  you  to  see  her,  to  tell  him 
good  of  her.  She  is  different  from  any  one  else — 
when  we  were  both  in  Italy  we  saw  each  other 
every  day,  and  I  know.  She  is  so  gentle ;  I  want 
her  here." 

Allard  gazed  at  him  in  utter  wonder. 

"Feodor  believes  I  force  the  marriage  to  an- 
noy him  and  please  Dalmorov.  It  is  not  so;  it 
is  because  I  want  Iria  here.  You  understand 
that?" 

"I  am  trying,  sire." 

Adrian  stood  up  decisively. 

"Let  us  go  in.  When  the  time  comes,  you  shall 
go  with  her  escort." 


137 


CHAPTER  IX 

GUINEVERE    OP    THE    SOUTH 

IT  was  quite  a  month  after  that  sunny  noon  on 
the  Emperor's  terrace,  that  Maria  Luisa  Iria 
de  Bourbon  was  informed  of  her  betrothal  to  the 
Grand  Duke  Feodor  Stanief.  She  also  received 
the  announcement  on  a  garden  terrace,  by  a 
caprice  of  chance;  but  it  was  a  terrace  of  the 
South,  starred  and  flowered  all  over  with  violets, 
heavily-sweet  tuberoses  and  blue  Florentine 
irises.  Moreover,  it  was  sunset,  and  she  stood  a 
slender  white  figure  against  the  rosy  sky. 

"It  is  all  decided?"  she  asked  in  a  hushed, 
pathetic  little  voice,  a  voice  shattered  into  crys- 
talline fragments,  like  the  dash  of  a  clear  brook 
against  a  rock.  "It  is  sure  to  happen,  seiiora  ?" 

"Quite  sure,"  answered  her  mother,  with  a 
firmness  not  unsuggestive  of  Adrian. 

The  princess  made  a  move  forward,  then 
swayed  like  one  of  her  wind-blown  irises  and 
128 


GUINEVERE    OF    THE    SOUTH 

slipped  down  to  the  old  moss-green  steps.  When 
in  her  own  room  they  revived  her,  she  turned  to 
hide  her  face  among  the  pillows. 

"I  am  afraid,"  she  whispered  under  her 
breath.  "I  am  afraid." 

That  was  all.  She  had  been  taught  obedience 
in  a  convent,  and  the  Duquesa  her  mother  was 
not  to  be  resisted.  One  does  not  stop  the  mills  of 
the  gods  by  laying  a  flower  across  their  wheels. 

But  if  Stanief  seized  every  delay  of  diplomacy 
and  ceremony  in  his  Northern  court,  he  was  un- 
consciously aided  by  every  feminine  subterfuge 
from  the  Gentle  Princess  in  her  sun-kissed  home. 
The  elaborate  trousseau  required  weeks  to  pre- 
pare, the  autumn  storms  made  the  voyage  by  sea 
unpleasant,  and  the  journey  by  land  was  too 
fatiguing  and  informal.  Between  one  and  an- 
other, it  was  six  months  after  the  announcement 
before  the  escort  ship  anchored  in  the  cobalt- 
blue  bay  which  makes  a  dimple  in  the  curving 
cheek  of  southern  Spain.  And  then  Iria  met 
some  of  her  new  countrymen. 
139 


THE    GAME   AND   THE    CANDLE 

Not  easy  were  their  names  and  titles  to  her 
lisping  Latin  tongue,  as  she  greeted  the  guests 
graciously  and  gracefully,  her  mother  by  her 
side.  But  as  one  gentleman  was  presented,  she 
leaned  forward  with  delicate  surprise. 

"Monsieur  John  Allard,"  she  echoed,  her 
large  golden-brown  eyes  on  his  face.  "Monsieur 
is  not  then  of  my  future  country  ?" 

"Madame,  I  am  an  American,"  he  explained, 
almost  with  the  tenderness  one  involuntarily 
shows  a  child.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  had  never 
seen  anything  more  appealing  than  her  young 
dignity  and  pathetic  beauty  of  expression. 

Iria  regarded  him  earnestly.  His  right  arm 
hung  in  a  scarf,  but  he  bore  the  injury  with  a 
bright  unconcern  that  suggested  it  rather  a 
badge  of  honor  than  an  embarrassment.  Al- 
though so  simply  announced,  his  companions 
waited  for  him  to  pass  on  with  deferential  pa- 
tience and  lack  of  surprise  at  her  interest.  Very 
suddenly  the  young  girl  flushed,  her  golden- 
brown  head  drooping  on  its  white  stem. 
140 


GUINEVERE   OF   THE    SOUTH 

"I  am  most  glad  to  have  met  monsieur,"  she 
murmured  confusedly. 

After  that  the  preparations  for  the  departure 
went  on  more  rapidly.  Contrary  to  all  expecta- 
tions, the  princess  was  not  too  weary  to  sail  next 
day  and  embarked  with  her  mother  and  their 
ladies  without  too  obvious  regret. 

The  chief  of  the  escort,  the  venerable  Ad- 
miral Count  Donoseff ,  was  charmed  and  flattered 
by  the  interest  shown  in  his  staff  by  their  future 
mistress.  The  first  lady  of  the  Empire  Iria 
would  be,  until  Adrian's  distant  marriage;  her 
friendship  might  be  valuable. 

"Monsieur  Allard  has  then  injured  his  arm?" 
she  remarked,  on  the  third  day  of  the  voyage. 

"Madame,  in  an  act  of  devotion  most  remark- 
able," the  admiral  replied.  "Imagine  that  a 
week  before  we  sailed,  an  insane  student  made  an 
attack  upon  the  Emperor.  His  Imperial  Majesty 
was  driving,  with  Monsieur  Allard  seated  oppo- 
site, when  the  criminal  leaped  on  the  step  of  the 
carriage  and  attempted  to  plunge  a  knife  into 
141 


T,H£    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

the  Emperor's  heart.  Monsieur  Allard  flung 
himself  forward  and  caught  the  blow  on  his  own 
arm,  undoubtedly  saving  the  Emperor's  life  at 
the  expense  of  a  dangerous  wound  to  himself. 
Drenched  with  blood,  he  held  the  assassin's  wrist 
until  aid  arrived." 

Iria  shuddered,  yet  listened  thirstily. 

"I  heard — a  little  of  this,"  she  said  breath- 
lessly. "But  I  thought  it  was  his  Royal  High- 
ness the  Regent  who  was  hurt." 

The  Admiral  blushed  at  his  own  forgetful- 
ness  ;  a  courtier  should  never  forget. 

"Certainly ;  he  also,  madame,"  he  hastened  to 
assure.  "He  was  beside  the  Emperor  and  so  at  a 
disadvantage,  but  he  sprang  to  aid  Monsieur 
Allard  in  holding  the  man  and  received  a  slight 
wound  in  disarming  him.  All  Europe  rang  with 
the  story,  and  Monsieur  Allard  was  decorated 
with  the  Grand  Star  of  the  Order  of  St.  Rurik. 
The  justice  of  the  Regent  is  swift;  the  criminal 
was  tried  and  executed  the  next  day." 

Iria  glanced  down  the  deck  to  where  Allard 
142 


GUINEVERE   OF   THE    SOUTH 

chatted  with  two  young  nobles  of  the  court,  the 
sun  striking  across  his  bright  hair  and  laughing 
face. 

"The  Regent,"  she  began  shyly,  then  re- 
lapsed into  silence  with  her  ready  change  of 
color. 

But  a  little  later  she  caught  AUard's  eye  and 
summoned  him  by  a  scarcely  perceptible  move- 
ment of  her  hand.  He  came  with  pleasure  and  sa- 
luted her  with  that  direct  friendliness  of  regard 
which  had  carried  him  safely  past  many  a  shoal 
and  undercurrent  during  his  continental  life. 

"The  Count  Donoseff  has  been  telling  me  the 
history  of  your  wounded  arm,  monsieur,"  she 
said.  "Let  me  add  my  poor  admiration  to  all 
you  receive,  realizing  that  you  saved  the  Em- 
peror, soon  to  be  my  sovereign  also." 

"You  are  too  gracious,  madame,"  Allard  pro- 
tested lightly.  Gaiety  came  very  easily  to  him 
since  that  day  when  he  had  saved  Adrian's  life 
and  Stanief's  honor.  It  seemed  to  him  that 
John  Allard  had  not  only  paid;  he  had  re- 
143 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

earned  the  right  to  existence,  justified  his  lib- 
erty. 

"If  all  the  world  knows  of  it — " 

"Oh,  pardon;  I  only  meant  to  say  that  the 
Grand  Duke  was  present  and  did  as  much  as  I." 

Something  in  the  words  brought  her  soft  smile. 

"Is  not  the  Grand  Duke  usually  where  you 
are,  monsieur?"  she  queried. 

"I  am  with  him  whenever  he  and  my  service  of 
the  Emperor  permit,  madame." 

"Only  then?"  she  doubted. 

Surprised,  he  shrugged  his  shoulders  laugh- 
ingly. 

"Some  one  has  been  telling  tales  of  me,  Prin- 
cess. I  confess  I  am  with  him  more  than  is  strict- 
ly warranted." 

"I  have  heard  so  much  of  his  coldness,  his  se- 
verity," she  ventured,  her  lashes  sweeping  her 
round  young  cheeks.  "He,  he  cares  for  nothing, 
no  one,  they  say." 

"Oh,  no,  madame,"  Allard  denied,  warmly  en- 
listed in  the  defense.  "That  is  most  unjust.  Con- 
144 


GUINEVERE    OF    THE    SOUTH 

sider  only  those  from  whom  such  reports  come; 
there  is  no  one  living  who  has  more  undeserved 
enemies.  I  know  him  capable  of  love ;  I  have  seen 
it,  felt  it,  lived  it.  And  he  works,  madame ;  how 
he  works !  The  country  under  his  rule  gains  new 
life,  new  hope.  Madame,  if  I  might  presume,  I 
would  implore  you  to  believe  nothing  of  him  ex- 
cept what  he  himself  will  show  you." 

She  crimsoned  before  his  fervor,  but  her  deli- 
cate face  expressed  no  anger  at  the  daring. 

"I  will  not,"  she  assented,  still  with  that 
strange  timidity.  "I  was  frightened  at  first,  but 
not  now,  not  any  more.  The  Regent  is  fair,  with 
gray  eyes,  is  he  not,  monsieur?" 

"No,  madame ;  he  is  very  dark,"  he  assured  her 
hastily,  his  thoughts  on  Stanief's  much-loved 
face. 

Iria  smiled,  bending  her  head  still  lower. 

"He  is  perhaps — fanciful,  monsieur?  He 
might  do  something  quite  useless  and  romantic, 
just  for  a  caprice?" 

"Hardly,  madame.  I  think  he  does  nothing 
145 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

without  a  purpose.  He — I  believe  he  has  not 
been  very  happy,  Princess." 

"And,  is  he  now?"  she  asked  faintly. 

Allard  recalled  himself  to  gallantry  with 
charming  grace. 

"Madame,  he  should  be  happier  than  any  one 
living." 

"Thank  you,  monsieur,"  she  breathed,  and  let 
him  retire  presently,  her  bosom  heaving  under  its 
white  linen  and  lace. 

It  was  a  very  pale  and  listless  girl  who  had  first 
met  Stanief's  envoys,  but  as  the  voyage  proceed- 
ed she  grew  each  day  more  rose-tinted,  more 
daintily  radiant  and  content.  One  would  have 
said  the  salt  winds  blew  across  some  Elysian  gar- 
den, some  fountain  of  Ponce  de  Leon,  and 
brought  health  with  their  touch.  She  had  a  little 
way  of  suddenly  blushing  and  smiling,  as  if  at 
some  delightful  secret  of  her  own  not  to  be  care- 
lessly spoken. 

On  the  last  day  at  sea  she  chose  Allard's  arm 
for  her  daily  promenade  up  and  down  the  deck. 
146 


GUINEVERE    OF    THE    SOUTH 

This  honor  was  eagerly  desired  by  the  gentlemen, 
old  and  young  alike,  but  she  had  hitherto  shown 
a  decided  preference  for  the  veteran  admiral; 
or  one  of  her  ladies,  if  the  sea  were  sufficiently 
calm.  Allard  no  longer  wore  the  scarf,  but  she 
had  paused  before  him  demurely. 

"Your  arm  is  better,  monsieur?" 

"Madame,  it  is  quite  well." 

"Then,  if  you  do  not  fear  to  injure  it — " 

And  with  that  they  were  pacing  dignifiedly 
down  the  shining  deck,  under  a  score  of  envious 
eyes. 

"To-morrow  we  arrive,  monsieur." 

"In  a  happy  hour  for  our  country  and  the 
Grand  Duke  Feodor,  madame." 

"He  thinks  so?" 

"Princess,  can  you  doubt  it?"  evaded  Allard, 
who  himself  had  many  doubts,  remembering 
Stanief's  grim  sarcasms  on  the  subject  of  being 
given  the  care  of  a  twenty-year-old  girl  when  his 
life  was  already  one  of  crowded  tasks  and  serious 
peril. 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

Some  trouble  in  his  manner  communicated  it- 
self to  the  small  hand  fluttering  on  his  sleeve. 

"I  do  not  want  to  doubt,"  she  said.  "I  do  not. 
Monsieur,  in  that  old  English  legend — have  you 
ever  thought  how  wise  King  Arthur  would  have 
been,  if  instead  of  sending  Lancelot  to  Lady 
Guinevere  in  his  place,  he  had  himself  gone  to 
meet  her  in  Lancelot's  guise  ?" 

"Why,  I  never  did  think,"  Allard  acknowl- 
edged merrily.  "But  certainly  he  would  have 
been  much  wiser,  madame." 

He  regarded  her  in  bright  question  which  drew 
the  answer  of  her  flush. 

"Do  not  modern  King  Arthurs  ever  choose  the 
wiser  course  ?"  she  faltered. 

"Perhaps  they  are  too  busy  and  hampered,  ma- 
dame,  as  the  ancient  king  may  have  been  also. 
Since  I  have  lived  at  a  court  I  have  altered  my 
ideas  on  such  subjects.  I  never  saw  any  one  who 
worked  so  hard  as  the  Regent.  He  has  set  him- 
self a  splendid  task,  and  splendidly  he  carries 
it  on." 

148 


GUINEVERE    OF   THE    SOUTH 

Iria's  expression  clouded  slightly ;  the  glance 
she  stole  at  her  companion  was  puzzled  and  full 
of  dawning  terror. 

"Yet  he  might  leave  it  a  little  while,  monsieur." 

"Madame,  to  leave  it  for  one  day  might  topple 
down  the  careful  building  of  months.  Moreover, 
he  holds  the  city  always  under  his  grasp,  fearing 
danger  to  the  Emperor." 

Her  left  hand  went  to  her  heart. 

"Monsieur,  we  arrive  to-morrow ;  it  would  not 
be  kind  to  play  with  me." 

Allard  met  her  pleading  eyes  with  candid 
amazement. 

"Princess,  what  have  I  said  ?  7  venture  to  play 
with  your  Royal  Highness !" 

"Then  the  Grand  Duke  is  waiting  over  there  ?" 
she  flung  out  her  hand  toward  the  north,  lifting 
her  small  white  face  to  him,  the  golden-brown 
curls  tossing  in  the  breeze. 

Even  then  he  had  no  conception  of  her  mis- 
take. 

"Surely,  madame;  where  else?"  he  wondered. 
149 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

The  Gentle  Princess  made  no  exclamation,  no 
reproach.  Only  her  head  drooped  again,  and 
shivering  she  drew  the  veil  about  her  face. 

"I  am  tired,  monsieur,"  she  gasped.  "Will  you 
take  me  back?" 

"Madame,  most  unintentionally  I  have  offend- 
ed you.  Let  me  beg  forgiveness  and  ask  how." 

"No,  no;  no  one  has  done  wrong.  I  myself 
was — absurd.  I  am  not  angry,  monsieur;  only 
tired." 

They  walked  back,  Allard  completely  bewil- 
dered and  uncomprehending.  By  her  chair  Iria 
paused  and  gave  him  her  hand  with  a  smile 
whose  sweetness  was  beyond  tears. 

"Thank  you,  Monsieur  Allard,"  she  said. 
"Perhaps  we  shall  still  be  friends  over  there.  You; 
are  going  home,  but  I  go  a  stranger  to  a  strange 
place ;  I  meant  no  more  than  that." 

She  was  like  Theodora,  Allard  thought,  deeply 
moved.  Surely  Stanief  would  be  gentle  with  her 
gentleness. 

The  next  morning  they  landed. 
150 


CHAPTER  X 

A  STANIEF'S  OWN 

IT  was  a  pity  that  amidst  all  the  gorgeous 
ceremony  and  confusion  of  welcome,  Iria  did 
not  see  the  warm  affection  of  Stanief's  greeting 
to  Allard.  Perhaps  she  would  have  been  less  hope- 
lessly afraid  when  the  little  Emperor  took  her 
hand  and  presented  to  her  the  tall,  superb  noble 
whose  dark  face,  finely  emotionless,  resembled  a 
cameo,  whose  velvet  eyes  she  dared  not  seek  be- 
hind their  curtaining  lashes. 

Yet  Stanief  was  faultlessly  courteous,  even 
kind  in  his  grave  manner.  It  might  have  been 
merely  that  he  was  so  different  from  her  fancies 
of  the  last  weeks. 

The  wedding  was  to  take  place  in  two  days ; 
two  days  of  festivities,  of  marvelously  decorated 
streets,  of  wonderful  balls  by  night.  Iria  did  ex- 
actly as  she  was  told ;  yielded  dazedly  to  Adrian's 
151 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

caresses  and  accepted  the  Regent's  lavish  gifts. 
Like  a  beautiful  toy  she  allowed  her  ladies  to 
dress  her  half  a  dozen  times  a  day,  and  listened 
submissively  to  her  mother's  advice.  But  the 
afternoon  before  her  wedding-day,  she  saw  Stan- 
ief  alone  for  the  first  time. 

After  all,  it  was  not  really  alone.  The  Emperor 
had  been  chatting  with  her  on  the  great  glass- 
enclosed  balcony,  and  as  Stanief  came  toward 
them,  he  rose  with  a  significant  smile  and  went 
back  to  the  reception-hall.  Still,  from  that 
crowded  reception-hall  they  were  only  separated 
by  arching,  open  arcades ;  only  slightly  screened 
by  towering  palms  and  flowers  in  huge  vases. 

Stanief  took  the  chair  beside  his  fiancee  and 
looked  at  her ;  this  was  the  first  moment  when  he 
could  do  so  without  feeling  himself  watched  by 
all  curious  eyes.  He  had  read  perfectly  the  ter- 
ror under  her  mute  passivity,  the  shrinking  of 
her  tiny  frost-cold  hand  from  his  touch,  and  he 
pitied  her  with  all  his  heart.  Now,  in  the  lustrous 
rose-pink  gown  against  which  her  transparent 
152 


A    STANIEF'S    OWN 

skin  showed  without  a  tinge  of  color,  her  bronze- 
bright  head  averted,  her  mouth  curved  in  child- 
ish pathos,  she  inspired  him  with  an  anger 
against  Adrian  which  he  had  never  felt  for  him- 
self. 

"Princess,"  he  said  gently,  "we  have  seen  so 
little  of  each  other  until  now,  nor  shall  we  again 
until  after  to-morrow.  May  I  say  something 
which  has  been  in  my  thoughts  since  we  met  yes- 
terday ?" 

"As  you  will,  monseigneur,"  she  murmured. 

"I  think  it  is  as  you  will,"  Stanief  corrected, 
smiling  in  spite  of  himself.  "But  I  accept  the 
permission.  Will  you  forgive  me  if  I  have  im- 
agined that  you  feared  me,  Princess  ?" 

Iria  raised  her  topaz  eyes  to  his  in  complete 
dismay. 

"Monseigneur,  you  are  angry — " 

The  sentence  broke ;  those  firm,  steadily  tran- 
quil eyes  of  his  caught  and  held  hers. 

"Angry  ?  Why  ?  But  I  am  sorry,  deeply  sor- 
ry, for  the  net  of  policy  which  has  enmeshed  us 
153 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

both  and  left  me  no  power  of  freeing  you.  And 
I  would  do  all  possible,  Princess,  to  make  this  less 
hard  for  you.  There  is  no  need  to  be  afraid  of 
me  in  any  way.  I  do  not  know  what  they  have 
told  you  of  me ;  if  I  govern  the  Empire  severely, 
it  is  that  order  may  come  from  chaos,  no  more. 
Of  what  else  I  may  be  accused — " 

"Monseigneur !" 

He  smiled  again  at  her  tone,  rather  sadly. 

*'0h,  I  know  my  enemies.  But  such  things  have 
no  place  between  you  and  me.  John  Allard  was 
of  your  suite ;  perhaps  he  could  have  told  you 
that  I  am  not  all  harshness." 

She  snatched  her  gaze  from  his  and  blushed  as 
he  had  never  seen  a  woman  blush  before,  the 
heavy  crimson  staining  her  very  forehead. 

"He  did  tell  me — that,  monseigneur." 

"Then  I  would  ask  you  to  trust  me,  Princess. 
To-morrow  you  will  come  to  my  house ;  there  will 
be  no  other  change  in  your  life  which  you  do  not 
wish.  I  am  not  a  reigning  sovereign,  there  is  no 
reason  why  you  should  not  keep  with  you  the 
154 


A    STANIEF'S    OWN 

ladies  of  your  own  country  whom  you  prefer.  If 
you  desire,  I  will  have  the  Emperor  ask  your 
mother  to  remain  with  you  for  a  few  months." 

Iria  shook  her  head.  Her  mother's  constant 
surveillance  threatened  even  the  peace  Stanief 
offered,  and  prohibited  rest. 

"You  are  good  to  me,  monseigneur,"  she  fal- 
tered. "I  will  stay  with  you,  please." 

He  understood,  knowing  the  lady  in  question. 

"Thank  you,"  he  answered,  and  after  a  mo- 
ment, "A  Stanief  guards  his  own;  so  much,  at 
least,  our  race  has  of  loyalty.  And  to  guard  you 
all  I  can,  that  is  all  I  claim.  There  are  enough 
more  serious  troubles,  Princess,  without  adding 
the  artificial  one  of  fear.  If  there  is  sorrow  to 
you  in  this  marriage,  it  is  beyond  my  cure;  but 
rest  quietly  in  my  guardianship." 

The  shadow  of  a  sob  crossed  Iria's  sensitive 
face;  she  looked  up  at  him  bravely  and  grate- 
fully. 

"You  are  good,"  she  said  hurriedly.  "I  never 
hoped  you  would  be  like  this  to  me,  monseigneur. 
155 


THE   GAME   AND   THE   CANDLE 

No  one  ever  thought  of  me  so  carefully  before, 
never.  But  it  is  right  to  tell  you,  because  you 
are  so  good.  I  know  that  you  did  not  wish  this 
marriage,  either,  we  are  alike  so.  Baron  Dal- 
morov  informed  me  this  morning." 

"I  am  infinitely  indebted  to  Baron  Dalmorov," 
observed  Stanief,  his  dark  brows  contracting  in 
an  expression  that  might  have  terrified  into  flight 
Irfa's  new-found  confidence,  if  she  had  not  been 
absorbed  in  her  confession. 

"I  was  not  hurt,  monseigneur ;  it  made  it  eas- 
ier to  know.  And  now  I  can  tell  you ;  I,  I  hate 
secrets.  There  was  some  one — oh,  some  one 
quite  impossible  and  who  does  not  care  for  me  at 
all.  He  does  not  dream  I  ever  thought,  like  that. 
But  I  fancied  he  was  some  one  else — I  misunder- 
stood. It  was  not  his  fault  in  any  way.  I  had  to 
tell  you,  monseigneur;  it  seemed  to  me  right  to 
do  so." 

Stanief  leaned  forward  and  laid  his  hand  over 
the  cold  hands  folded  in  her  lap.  He  had  never 
before  believed  that  a  woman  could  be  frank, 
156 


A   STANIEFS   OWN 

never  imaged  one  who  "hated  secrets."  It  was 
as  if  he  stood  on  the  threshold  of  a  room  all  per- 
fume and  whiteness;  and  not  the  most  accom- 
plished coquette  «ould  have  devised  a  means  of 
moving  him  so  profoundly. 

"All  my  life  I  shall  remember  that  you  gave 
me  your  confidence,  Iria,"  he  answered,  with  ex- 
quisite delicacy  and  respect.  "So  far  I  am  hap- 
pier than  you ;  I  love  no  one.  Have  no  doubt,  no 
dread  of  anything  I  can  save  you.  Some  good 
may  come  of  all  this,  how  can  we  tell?  And  at 
least  there  is  no  need  of  making  it  worse  by  not 
understanding.  You  will  not  shrink  so  much 
from  to-morrow,  now?" 

She  met  his  eyes,  helpless  as  a  child  in  the 
great  reaction ;  his  warm  clasp  seemed  to  melt  the 
chill  despair  of  the  last  days,  a  little  color  came 
back  to  her  cheek  and  something  flashed  rainbow- 
like  upon  her  lashes. 

"Not  now,"  she  sighed  quiveringly.  "Thank 
you,  monseigneur." 

Stanief  raised  her  hand  to  his  lips,  and  pres- 
157) 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

ently  they  went  back  to  the  Duquesa.      After 
which  he  went  in  search  of  Adrian. 

The  Emperor  was  talking  to  Allard  when  his 
cousin  came  up  to  the  alcove^where  they  were 
ensconced,  and  he  sat  motionless  with  astonish- 
ment at  sight  of  Stanief's  steel-hard  glance  and 
compressed  lips. 

"Cousin?"  he  exclaimed,  daunted  in  spite  of 
himself. 

Allard  had  risen  at  the  approach,  but  Stanief 
did  not  regard  him  and  Adrian  gave  no  permis- 
sion to  retire. 

"Sire,"  Stanief  said,  in  the  markedly  quiet 
tone  that  came  with  his  rare  anger,  "it  is  fre- 
quently your  Imperial  Majesty's  pleasure  to 
submit  me  and  my  affairs  to  the  discussion  or 
criticism  of  Baron  Dalmorov.  I  have  made  no 
complaint,  I  make  none  now,  but  there  is  a  limit 
to  such  endurance^  The  lady  who  is  to  be  my 
wife—" 

Allard  moved  involuntarily ;  Adrian  raised  his 
hand  in  swift  protest. 

158 


A    STANIEF'S   OWN 

"Cousin,  I  assure  you — " 

Stanief  saluted  him  formally. 

"Sire,  I  have  just  learned  that  Baron  Dal- 
morov  has  had  the  tact  to  inform  the  Princess 
Iria  that  I  was  marrying  her  under  compulsion 
and  against  my  will.  This  insult  to  madame,  this 
falsehood — " 

"Cousin!" 

"This  falsehood,  sire — since,  having  met  the 
Princess,  it  is  my  earnest  desire  to  have  the  honor 
of  her  hand — this  is  too  much.  Baron  Dalmorov 
is  your  attendant;  I  request  your  justice.  If  it 
is  refused — " 

"Well,  cousin?"  Adrian  asked  mechanically, 
rather  in  stupor  than  challenge  at  Stanief's 
words. 

Stanief's  usually  veiled  glance  glinted  clear 
and  ice-cold. 

"Sire,  Dalmorov  shall  account  to  me  now ;  and 
I  to  you  later." 

Allard,  familiar  with  both,  bit  his  lip  in  an 
agony  of  anxiety.  For  an  instant  Adrian  wa- 
159 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

vered,  then  his  eyes  fell,  beaten  down  by  those  of 
his  kinsman. 

"Whatever  you  wish,"  he  conceded,  docilely  as 
Iria  could  have  spoken.  "He  had  no  right,  no 
excuse  from  me.  Go  bid  Dalmorov  come  here, 
Allard." 

The  surrender  was  complete.  Relieved  and 
surprised,  Allard  obeyed,  hazarding  a  guess  that 
the  Emperor's  own  fondness  for  Iria  had  influ- 
enced the  answer. 

But  Adrian  had  not  lived  ten  months  with  his 
Regent  without  learning  more  than  a  childish 
love  of  command.  He  looked  up  again  at  the 
stately  figure  that  towered  over  him,  glittering 
in  the  semibarbaric  magnificence  of  dress  de- 
manded by  etiquette. 

"Come  by  me,  Feodor,"  he  urged,  with  a  ges- 
ture of  invitation  to  the  chair  at  his  side. 

"Thank  you,  sire,"  without  moving. 

Adrian  surveyed  him,  then  stooped  to  the  first 
apology  of  his  life,  however  imperiously  spoken. 

"I  never  told  any  one  at  all  of  your  unwilling- 
160 


A    STANIEFS    OWN 

ness  to  marry  Iria,  Feodor.  If  It  is  known,  it  is 
because  you  yourself  seized  every  possible  delay. 
Come  here ;  I  do  not  wish  Dalmorov  to  find  you 
standing  there." 

Stanief  complied,  and  Adrian  laid  a  hand  on 
his  sleeve. 

"Then  you  love  Iria,  after  all?"  he  asked,  with 
hesitating  curiosity. 

"Love?  In  twenty-four  hours?  Hardly,  sire; 
but  I  guard  my  own." 

The  young  Emperor  lifted  his  head  no  less 
proudly. 

"And  so  do  I,  cousin.  Dalmorov  shall  satisfy 
you." 

Half  an  hour  after  Iria  had  returned  to  the 
suite  appointed  to  her  and  her  mother,  she 
received  a  visit  from  Baron  Dalmorov — a  very 
different  Dalmorov  from  the  malicious,  self-confi- 
dent gentleman  of  the  morning,  and  who  offered 
her  so  abject  an  apology  for  his  mistaken  and 
untrue  statement  regarding  the  Grand  Duke's 
attitude,  that  the  Gentle  Princess  was  quite  dis- 
161 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

tressed.  She  sent  him  away  reassured  and  ap- 
parently grateful,  then  fell  to  connecting  events. 
Recollecting  Stanief's  expression  during  her 
naive  account  and  the  carriage  of  his  head  as  he 
had  crossed  the  reception-hall  to  Adrian,  she  had 
no  difficulty  in  divining  the  reason  for  Dalmo- 
rov's  sudden  contrition.  But  Stanief's  strength 
no  longer  chilled  her  with  terror;  instead  she 
stood  with  relief  behind  its  shelter. 

There  was  a  ball  at  the  palace  that  night. 
Stanief  never  danced,  but  every  one  else  did,  and 
the  Emperor  opened  the  evening  with  the  Prin- 
cess. It  was  obvious  to  all  why  Stanief  had  been 
forced  to  this  marriage,  whenever  Adrian  was 
seen  with  Iria ;  the  boy  so  evidently  liked,  indeed, 
loved  her.  And  the  fifteen-year-old  autocrat  was 
always  popularly  supposed  to  be  without  affec- 
tion. 

Near  the  end  of  the  evening  Stanief  came 
across  Allard,  who  was  leaning  against  a  flower- 
wreathed  pillar  and  watching  the  dancers  with 
grave,  unseeing  eyes.  The  other  man  studied 
162 


A    STANIEF'S    OWN 

him  for  a  minute,  then  laid  a  hand  on  his  shoul- 
der. 

"John,  I  have  scarcely  seen  you  to-night. 
You  look  troubled." 

Allard  started  and  turned,  his  face  brighten- 
ing warmly. 

"I  am  not  dancing  to-night,  monseigneur,"  he 
explained.  "That  is  all." 

"Why  not?" 

The  gray  eyes  fell. 

"I  was — a  bit  out  of  sorts,  perhaps." 

Stanief  stood  silent,  his  own  expression  becom- 
ing very  somber.  Allard  waited  quietly;  he  in- 
deed bore  the  stamp  of  fatigue  in  his  pallor  and 
the  dark  circles  beneath  his  eyes. 

"It  is  a  tangled  skein,  this  life  of  ours,"  Stan- 
ief said  at  last,  "and  not  wholly  of  our  spinning. 
You  are  with  the  Emperor  to-night?" 

"Every  night  now,  monseigneur." 

"Then  I  may  not  see  you  until  morning.  Good 
night,  John." 

Allard  smiled  with  the  cordial  brilliancy  that 
163 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

always  sprang  in  response  to  his  name  on  Stan- 
ief's  lips. 

"Good  night,  monseigneur,"  he  answered  lov- 
ingly. 

The  next  morning,  with  all  elaborate  cere- 
mony, the  marriage  took  place.  It  was  remarked 
that  when  the  Princess  stood  up,  in  as  much 
snowy  satin,  old  lace  and  pearl  as  could  be  crowd- 
ed upon  one  small  feminine  figure,  opposite 
Stanief  in  the  vast  cathedral,  her  wide  eyes  never 
left  his  face,  and  she  seemed  to  find  support  in 
his  composure.  And  when  they  came  down  the 
aisle  together,  her  little  white-gloved  fingers 
clung  to  the  white  sleeve  of  his  uniform  as  if 
there  alone  she  touched  some  reality  in  the  be- 
wildering panorama. 

"Did  you  ever  see  the  frail  edelweiss  growing 
on  a  ledge  of  some  ice-fringed  granite  cliff?" 
whispered  the  volatile  Vasili  in  Allard's  ear. 
"Look,  pray,  at  our  Grand  Duchess." 

"The  edelweiss  is  safe,  at  least,"  Allard  replied 
soberly.    "Perhaps  safer  than  the  cliff." 
164 


CHAPTER   XI 

IN  THE  REGENT'S  STUDY 

STANIEF  was  writing,  writing  steadily, 
placidly,  his  pen  rustling  faintly  as  it 
slipped  across  the  paper.  The  ruddy  glow  of 
the  open  fire  was  tangled  and  reflected  among  the 
many-faceted  knickknacks  that  littered  the  desk, 
caught  and  tossed  back  from  a  dozen  shining 
surfaces,  and  mockingly  echoed  by  deep-tinted 
walls  and  draperies.  Most  ruddily,  most  vividly, 
the  light  seemed  to  gather  around  the  writer,  as  if 
its  quivering  pink  radiance  were  a  warning  or  a 
shield. 

It  was  like  another  presence  in  the  room,  that 
fire,  to  the  man  behind  the  curtain.  He  watched 
it  also  as  he  crept  stealthily  forward,  clutching 
more  tightly  the  object  in  his  hand.  A  man  of 
the  people,  shabby,  gaunt,  unkempt,  he  stole  out 
into  the  Regent's  study,  stepping  cautiously  on 
the  gleaming  floor  or  on  the  treacherously  soft 
165 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

rugs  which  slipped  beneath  his  unaccustomed 
feet.  From  the  velvet  hangings  he  gained  the 
shelter  of  a  tall  Vernis-Martin  cabinet  and 
crouched  in  the  shadow,  shaking  from  head  to 
foot  with  nervous  tremors. 

Stanief  worked  on  undisturbed ;  once  he  paused 
to  choose  another  pen,  and  the  intruder  cowered 
to  the  floor  in  abject  fear.  But  the  writing  was 
resumed  without  alarm.  After  a  few  moments  the 
man  again  moved  forward,  this  time  on  his  hands 
and  knees,  until  he  reached  the  end  of  a  high- 
sided  leather  couch.  There  he  halted  again. 
Coming  here  with  a  purpose  so  bold,  the  habit  of 
a  lifetime  yet  prompted  him  to  hold  his  soiled 
garments  away  from  the  gilded  and  perfumed 
upholstery  with  a  vague  sense  of  apology. 

There  never  was  a  clock  that  ticked  so  loudly, 
so  insistently  as  the  timepiece  above  the  hearth,  a 
clock  that  set  its  beats  so  exactly  to  the  beat  of 
a  man's  hurrying  pulse.  Once  the  man  on  the 
floor  touched  his  chest  curiously,  as  if  to  be  quite 
certain  whether  it  was  his  heart,  or  indeed  the 
166 


IN   THE    REGENT'S    STUDY 

swaying  pendulum  which  sounded  through  the 
quiet  place.  Reassured,  he  moved  on. 

The  glowing  firelight  wavered  giddily  across 
StaniePs  bent  head,  seeking  in  vain  for  a  hint  of 
brown  in  the  fine  black  hair,  which  had  a  slight 
ripple  and  a  tendency  to  lie  in  tiny  curls  where  it 
touched  the  neck.  The  man  noted  this  dully.  If 
one  struck  there?  Or  lower,  between  the  broad 
shoulders — 

Stanief  leaned  back  and  selected  a  cigarette 
from  the  tray  on  the  writing-table.  His  drowsy 
lashes  fell  meditatively  as  he  reached  for  a  match, 
a  half -smile  curved  his  lips.  The  man  by  the 
chair  darted  forward  and  struck  once,  from  be- 
hind. 

The  knife  crashed  ringing  to  the  floor  as 
StaniePs  quicker  movement  met  his  assailant's. 
The  man  cried  out  sharply  as  the  strong  white 
hands  closed  on  his  wrists  and  the  superior 
strength  forced  him  to  his  knees  beside  the  desk. 

"Clumsily  attempted,"  commented  the  level 
voice.  "Have  you  any  more  weapons,  mon  ami?" 
167 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

"Excellency,  Royal  Highness,  pardon — I  have 
no  French." 

Stanief  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  lapsed  into 
the  language  of  the  country. 

"I  asked  you  if  you  had  other  weapons,  but  it 
does  not  matter." 

He  deliberately  transferred  both  captive  wrists 
to  the  grasp  of  his  right  hand  and  with  his  left 
opened  a  drawer  of  the  desk.  The  man  made  no 
effort  to  free  himself.  Generations  of  serfdom 
had  reasserted  themselves ;  he  might  have  killed 
from  behind,  but  before  the  patrician's  glance 
and  voice  resistance  did  not  even  occur  to  him.  He 
submitted  passively  when  Stanief  produced  a 
pair  of  handcuffs  and  snapped  them  in  place. 

"Stand  up,  and  farther  off,"  came  the  con- 
temptuous command.  "I  am  not  accustomed  to 
doing  my  own  police  work.  You  need  not  try  to 
escape ;  the  guard  is  within  call.  I  might  have 
had  you  arrested  half  an  hour  ago  when  I  first 
saw  you." 

"Royal  Highness,  how — why — " 
168 


IN    THE    REGENT'S    STUDY 

Stanief  answered  the  stupefied  gaze,  coldly 
amused. 

"Because  it  interested  me  to  watch  your  at- 
tempt. I  keep  a  mirror  on  my  desk,  not  being 
without  experience.  Who  sent  you  to  kill  me  ?" 

"Royal  Highness,  my  brother  was  hung  last 
week." 

"As  you  this  week.    Well?" 

The  man  winced. 

"Royal  Highness,  we  wanted  freedom.  They 
tell  us  that  while  your  Royal  Highness  lives  it 
can  not  be ;  the  country  is  too  firmly  held  and  too 
content.  So  we  strive  to  act  in  time." 

He  spoke  as  one  reciting  a  lesson,  monotonous- 
ly, with  effort.  His  type  was  familiar,  lacking 
even  the  poor  excuse  of  originality. 

"Your  brother  was  executed  for  an  attempt  to 
kill  me?" 

"Serenity,  he  worked  in  the  palace  kitchen  and 
put  poison  in  a  cup  of  chocolate." 

"I  remember.  He  was  tried ;  I  had  nothing  to 
do  with  his  case."  He  paused,  considering ;  and 
169 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

the  other  stared  at  him  in  mute  fascination.  "Be- 
fore I  ring  to  have  you  removed,  have  you  any- 
thing to  say  ?" 

"Gracious  Highness,  pardon!" 

Stanief  regarded  him  with  scornful  amaze- 
ment. 

"Pardon?  You  are  mad,  mon  ami.  Do  you 
fancy  me  a  child  or  a  woman  to  set  you  free  after 
this  performance?  Why  should  I  pardon  you? 
You  do  not  interest  me  in  the  least.  Go  face  your 
trial;  my  share  in  the  incident  is  ended,"  and 
Stanief  turned  away. 

"Royal  Highness,  mercy — I  am  afraid!  Not 
that— I  will—" 

"What?" 

-*< 

"Buy,"  he  offered  desperately.  "Royalty,  not 
to  sell  my  comrades — who  are  we  in  your  sight — 
there  is  some  one  else,  some  one  of  the  court  who 
wishes  your  death." 

Stanief  stopped  with  his  finger  on  the  bell 
and  bent  his  keen  eyes  on  the  livid  face.  It  was 
not  a  pleasant  spectacle,  this  sordid,  trembling 
170 


IN   THE    REGENT'S    STUDY 

figure  in  the  firelight,  but  an  uglier  specter 
loomed  behind  it. 

"Go  on,  if  you  choose,"  he  conceded.  "You 
have  my  permission." 

"Royal  Highness,  not  my  comrades.  But  he 
is  not  of  us ;  he  urges  us  here  to  fail  and  die.  You 
are  the  master;  Royal  Highness,  his  name  for 
grace." 

"I  promise  you  nothing.  Certainly  not  your 
liberty." 

"No,  no,  but  life!"  he  made  a  movement  to 
throw  himself  at  the  Regent's  feet,  but  drew  back 
before  the  decided  negative.  "Royal  Highness, 
to  live,  only  to  live.  He  is  a  great  lord,  he  goes 
to  court ;  he  hates  and  fears  you.  Royal  High- 
ness, he  is  the  Baron  Sergius  Dalmorov." 

"Ah,"  observed  Stanief ,  and  said  nothing  more 
for  several  minutes.  His  all  given,  the  man 
waited  feverishly,  not  daring  to  speak  except  by 
his  imploring  gaze.  But  Stanief  finally  pushed 
the  button  without  vouching  a  reply. 

"Dimitri,"  he  said  curtly  to  the  officer  who  ap- 
171 


THE   GAME   AND   THE    CANDLE 

peared  in  answer  to  the  summons,  "take  this  man 
and  have  him  imprisoned  until  I  send  for  him 
again.  Understand  me;  there  is  no  charge 
against  him  at  present ;  simply  he  is  a  prisoner 
at  my  pleasure." 

The  officer  saluted  in  silence,  however  amazed 
at  the  presence  in  Stanief's  study  of  one  who 
certainly  had  not  passed  the  door,  and  in  silence 
marshaled  his  dazed  captive  backward  to  the 
threshold.  There  he  halted  and  again  saluted. 

"Monsieur  Allard  awaits  the  honor  of  being 
received  by  your  Royal  Highness." 

"Very  well;  admit  Monsieur  Allard." 

"Highness,"  faltered  the  prisoner  once  more. 

Dimitri  favored  him  with  a  scandalized  stare, 
jerked  him  unceremoniously  out  the  door,  and 
administered  a  shake  that  almost  sent  him  into 
Allard's  arms. 

"More  respect,  animal,"  he  ordered  explo- 
sively. "Pig  of  a  peasant !  Oh,  a  thousand  par- 
dons, Monsieur  Allard ;  pray  enter." 

Allard  laughed  and  passed  on,  giving  the  pris- 
172 


IN    THE    REGENT'S    STUDY 

oner  a  compassionate  glance  that  altered  to  one 
of  surprise  and  distrust  at  sight  of  his  face.  But 
he  asked  no  questions,  having  learned  many 
things  in  the  course  of  his  life  in  the  Empire. 
Adrian  himself  had  first  given  his  favorite  the 
dry  advice  to  see  nothing  that  did  not  concern 
him. 

Stanief  had  resumed  his  writing;  at  Allard' s 
entrance  he  looked  up  to  nod  pleasantly  toward 
a  chair,  and  continued  his  work  without  speak- 
ing. The  two  were  accustomed  to  each  other; 
smiling,  Allard  sat  down  and  let  his  head  sink 
against  the  high  back  of  the  cushioned  seat. 

The  fire  glowed  and  danced,  rose  and  fell, 
making  an  artificial  brightness  that  mocked  the 
clouded  sky  without.  Gradually,  from  waiting 
Allard  drifted  into  reverie,  in  whose  closing  mists 
his  surroundings  were  lost  from  sight. 

After   a  while   Stanief  laid   down   the  pen, 

pushed  aside  the  completed  task,  and  surveyed  his 

companion  unobserved.  Twice  the  Regent  moved 

as  if  to  speak,  then  changed  his  intention  and 

173 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

remained  mute.  The  expression  that  forced  its 
way  through  his  locked  composure  was  not  gen- 
tle; it  was  as  if  he  struggled  fiercely  with  some 
emotion  and  felt  it  wrench  and  writhe  beneath  the 
surface  of  self-control.  But  in  spite  of  his  will, 
his  dark  brows  tangled,  the  black  eyes  glinted 
hard  behind  their  deceptive  lashes.  And  when 
he  finally  spoke,  his  voice  carried  a  tone  never 
before  used  to  Allard. 

"John,  what  is  wrong?"  he  demanded. 

The  other  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"Nothing,  monseigneur,"  he  answered,  rather 
wearily. 

Stanief's  fingers  closed  sharply  on  one  of  the 
ivory  toys  which  strewed  the  desk. 

"That  is  not  true,"  he  contradicted.  "Kindly 
say  so  if  you  do  not  wish  to  explain ;  I  am  not  a 
child  to  be  put  off  with  a  light  word.  Something 
has  been  wrong  with  you  ever  since  your  return 
from  Spain." 

Too  assured  of  their  friendship  for  resent- 
ment or  to  attribute  the  speech  to  anything  ex- 


cept  interest  in  his  affairs,  Allard  smiled  even 
while  changing  color  with  pain. 

"I  have  you  always,  monseigneur,"  he  said. 
"If  I  have  lost  other  loves,  at  least  I  can  rest 
content  with  you." 

The  paper-knife  snapped  in  Stanief 's  grasp. 

"Thank  you,"  he  responded,  with  an  accent 
worthy  of  his  cousin.  "I  believe  I  asked  you  to 
explain." 

The  unconscious  Allard  pushed  the  bright  hair 
from  his  forehead,  his  eyes  on  the  ruddy  unrest 
of  the  flames. 

"Of  course  I  meant  to  tell  you  some  time,  mon- 
seigneur," he  mused  aloud.  "But  it  seemed  a  bit 
cowardly  to  burden  you  with  my  troubles;  you 
could  not  help  them,  and  you  have  so  many  of 
your  own.  It  was  no  time  to  speak  of  such  a 
thing  during  your  wedding,  and  as  the  weeks 
went  by  it  grew  harder  and  harder  to  speak  of  it 
at  all.  I  tried  not  to  betray  myself,  but  I  am 
rather  a  bad  actor.  If  it  were  only  I  who  suf- 
fered. The  journey  to  Spain,  for  madame — " 
175 


He  paused.  Stanief  gazed  at  him  with  an  ex- 
pression as  somberly  dangerous  as  ever  one  of  his 
dangerous  house  wore. 

"The  journey  to  Spain,  monsieur?"  he  re- 
peated. 

Aroused  at  last  to  a  strangeness  in  his  man- 
ner, Allard  turned  to  him  in  wonder. 

"During  the  journey  to  Spain,  monseigneur, 
this  came  for  me,"  he  replied  simply,  and  drew 
forth  a  letter  which  he  laid  before  the  other. 

Stanief  picked  it  up,  himself  confronted  by  the 
unexpected.  Allard  resumed  his  seat  and  averted 
his  head  as  the  rustling  paper  unfolded. 

It  was  a  sweetly  calm  letter,  a  letter  written  by 
one  in  the  evening  of  life  and  itself  breathing  an 
evening  repose  and  gray  twilight  hush.  Across 
the  fevered  passion  of  the  man  who  read,  the  first 
words  drifted  like  the  cool,  scented  air  of  the 
Californian  garden  from  which  they  came.  A 
letter  that  neither  reproached  nor  questioned,  its 
message  was  given  with  all  tenderness  of  phrase 
and  household  name. 

176 


IN    THE    REGENT'S    STUDY 

Robert  had  not  been  well  for  a  long  time,  Aunt 
Rose  wrote  most  delicately.  After  John  had  left 
for  South  America  so  suddenly,  his  younger 
brother  had  fretted  and  chafed  against  his  own 
quiet  life.  Even  his  engagement  to  Theodora  had 
failed  to  cheer  him,  or  cure  his  strange  restless- 
ness and  abstraction.  About  six  months  after 
John's  departure,  he  had  been  found  uncon- 
scious on  the  veranda,  lying  among  the  crumpled 
newspapers.  An  illness  followed,  and  after  re- 
covering from  that  he  never  seemed  to  grow  quite 
strong.  In  the  third  year  of  John's  absence, 
when  preparations  were  being  made  for  the  long- 
delayed  wedding,  he  again  fell  ill.  The  morning 
they  received  John's  letter  from  the  Nadeja,  he 
rallied  wonderfully.  Asking  to  have  the  letter 
himself,  he  read  it  again  and  again,  then  sent 
them  all  away  while  he  rested.  An  hour  later 
they  had  found  him,  resting  indeed,  his  cheek 
upon  the  letter  and  the  old  bright  content  on  his 
boyish  face.  Theodora  had  borne  it  very  well. 
They  were  tranquilly  calm  in  their  life  together, 
177 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

now,  and  sent  their  earnest  love  to  John  in  the 
distant  life  he  had  chosen. 

Stanief  laid  down  the  letter  very  gently.  He 
never  forgot  how  the  light  from  this  purer  and 
simpler  world  fell  across  the  labyrinth  of  dark 
thoughts  at  which  he  scarcely  dared  look  back. 

"Nearly  two  years,"  Allard  said,  his  head  still 
turned  away.  "So  long  since  Robert  died.  I  did 
not  write  at  once  from  here ;  I  thought  they  knew 
of  me,  and  I  wanted  a  little  real  life  to  tell.  I 
was  sick  of  pretense.  I  suppose  the  women  did 
not  know  how  to  reach  me  here ;  Bertie  would  have 
had  no  difficulty.  But  it  was  a  grief  past  reme- 
dying, and  there  seemed  no  use  troubling  you." 

Stanief  rose  and  came  around  the  writing-table 
to  lay  both  hands  on  the  other's  shoulders. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  John,"  he  said  earnestly 
and  gravely.  "I  spoke  to  you  just  now  as  I  never 
will  again,  come  what  may.  I  have  my  own 
griefs,  less  patiently  endured  than  yours ;  and  I 
misunderstood." 

"I  did  not  notice,"  Allard  answered,  with  per- 
178 


IN    THE    REGENT'S    STUDY 

feet  truth.  "You  are  always  like  no  one  else, 
monseigneur.  I  am  glad  that  you  know,  very 
glad.  You  see,  it  is  not  only  that  I  myself  have 
lost  Robert,  but  that  I  have  taken  him  from  The- 
odora. I  wanted  so  much  happiness  for  her,  and 
now — it  was  all  wrong.  Let  us  talk  of  something 
else,  please." 

Stanief  turned  away  to  the  table. 

"My  last  cigarette  was  never  lighted,"  he  re- 
marked, the  change  of  tone  complete.  "Did  you 
not  see  that  particularly  disagreeable  fellow- 
countryman  of  mine  who  went  out  in  Dimitri's 
charge?  He  tried  to  kill  me  just  before  you  ar- 
rived." 

Effectively  distracted,  Allard  sat  up. 

«JJe J» 

"Oh,  that  is  nothing  novel.  In  fact,  it  becomes 
monotonous.  Only  this  fellow  varied  the  routine 
by  declaring  Dalmorov  the  instigator  of  all 
this." 

"Dalmorov!"  Allard  echoed  incredulously. 
"To  stoop  so  far !  Yet  I  remember ;  I  saw  him 
179 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

talking  with  your  prisoner  the  other  night.  I 
was  coming  from  the  club  with  Rosal  and  Lino- 
vitch,  when  the  acetylene  search-lights  of  the  car 
fell  across  the  two,  as  they  stood  in  an  angle  of 
the  cathedral  wall." 

"So?  He  is  imprudent.  Also  he  should  recol- 
lect that  while  such  people  will  keep  faith  with 
one  another,  they  will  cheerfully  betray  one  of 
the  class  they  hate." 

"You  will  accuse  him,  arrest  him?" 

"My  dear  John,  on  the  word  of  a  wretched 
peasant  ?  I  shall  do  nothing  so  impulsive.  But,  I 
will  perfect  the  chain,  and  then — "  He  offered  a 
match  serenely.  "Why  should  he  not  pay  ?  More- 
over, he  is  dangerous  to  the  Emperor.  When  I 
resign  this  remodeled  empire  to  my  cousin,  he 
shall  rule  it,  not  Dalmorov.  Have  patience  yet 
a  while.  Before  my  power  passes  from  me,  I  will 
remove  this  gentleman,  whether  Adrian  approves 
of  it  or  not ;  and  then  contentedly  lay  down  my 
borrowed  scepter." 

"The  Emperor—" 

180 


IN    THE    REGENT'S    STUDY 

"The  Emperor  may  do  as  he  will,  afterward. 
He  is  fond  of  his  Dalmorov." 

"I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,  monseigneur;  he 
plays  with  him." 

Stanief  smiled. 

"My  young  cousin  is  a  kitten  for  whom  we  are 
all  toy  mice,  John.  Which  reminds  me  that  the 
hour  for  my  visit  to  him  approaches." 

"And  recalls  me  to  my  errand.  The  Emperor 
requests  that  her  Royal  Highness  the  Grand 
Duchess  will  come  to  him  this  morning,  if  it  will 
not  derange  her  plans." 

"You  have  told  madame  ?" 

'"No,  monseigneur.  I  thought  perhaps  you — " 
te  looked  at  Stanief  interrogatively. 

"Would  accompany  her?"  Stanief  completed 
the  question.  "Perhaps." 

He  touched  the  bell,  and  the  long  regard  in 
which  he  enveloped  Allard  held  many  blended 
emotions  besides  its  affection. 

"Has  madame  gone  to  drive,  Dimitri?"  he  in- 
quired of  that  attendant. 
181 


THE   GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

"Her  Royal  Highness  at  this  moment  de- 
scends the  stairs,  Royal  Highness." 

"Say  to  her  that  I  would  be  glad  to  see  her 
here,  now,  if  she  is  at  leisure." 

Dimitri  vanished  hastily.  An  instant  later  he 
opened  the  door,  and  Irfa  came  noiselessly  across 
the  threshold  with  the  exotic,  Andalusian  grace 
that  made  her  least  movement  a  delight. 

Both  gentlemen  rose  at  her  entrance.  Color- 
ing faintly,  she  inclined  her  head  to  Allard,  and 
crossed  to  Stanief ,  lifting  her  eyes  to  his  with  a 
certain  delicate  confidence  and  trust. 

"You  sent  for  me,  monsiegneur?"  she  ques- 
tioned, in  her  rippling  southern  voice. 

"I  asked  you  to  come,"  he  corrected.  "Mon- 
sieur Allard  has  a  message  for  you." 

She  turned  docilely  to  Allard,  without  leaving 
Stanief's  side. 

"For  me,  monsieur?'* 

Stanief  looked  from  one  to  the  other.  Very 
lovely  was  the  young  girl  in  her  trailing  blue 
velvets  and  furs;  her  golden-brown  hair  clus- 
182 


IN   THE    REGENT'S    STUDY 

tering  in  full,  soft  waves  under  the  large  hat, 
her  golden-brown  eyes  warm  with  expectation. 
Iria  had  acquired  a  dainty  poise,  not  less  gentle 
but  more  assured,  during  these  months  of  eman- 
cipation and  freedom  under  the  Regent's  protec- 
tion. Allard  gazed  at  her  with  frank  admiration 
and  friendliness  as  he  explained: 

"Madame,  the  Emperor  requests  the  happi- 
ness of  your  presence  this  morning,  if  the  visit 
will  cause  no  disturbance  of  your  plans." 

Her  dimpling  smile  responded  to  a  demand 
sufficiently  familiar.  Adrian's  love  for  her  had 
long  ago  outlived  surprise  and  become  an  ac- 
cepted fact. 

"Thank  you,  monsieur,"  she  answered,  and 
again  looked  up  at  Stanief.  "You  are  going, 
monseigneur?  We  may  go  together?" 

"I  intended  to  ask  it  of  you,  if  you  will  wait 
an  instant  for  me  to  arrange  these  papers." 

Allard  saluted  them  quietly,  and  withdrew. 
Like  all  the  rest  of  the  city,  he  fancied  them  most 
happy  in  each  other.  The  Regent's  aversion  to 
183 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

the  marriage  had  been  forgotten  in  his  bearing 
since  the  first  day  of  his  fiancee's  arrival. 

Iria  sank  down  in  an  arm-chair  and  loosened 
the  furs  under  her  round  white  chin,  laying  the 
huge  muff  in  her  lap.  Quite  innocently  and  with- 
out shyness  she  followed  Staniefs  movements 
as  he  tossed  into  a  drawer  the  writing  upon 
which  he  had  been  engaged  and  dropped  on  top 
the  thin,  keen  knife  left  from  the  recent  conflict. 

"Monseigneur,"  she  said  at  last. 

Stanief  winced  ever  so  slightly;  there  were 
times  when  the  formal  title  fell  like  a  drop  of 
acid  on  his  nerves. 

"Madame  la  Duchesse?"  he  retorted. 

Iria  laughed  out  in  her  surprise,  all  uncon- 
scious of  his  meaning. 

"Monseigneur,  are  you  going  to  send  Marya 
away  from  me?" 

"I!  What  have  I  to  do  with  your  ladies? 
Keep  or  dismiss  them  as  you  choose,  Iria." 

"Marya  cried  this  morning,  telling  me  that 
last  night  the  Baron  Dalmorov  warned  her  of 
184 


IN    THE    REGENT'S    STUDY 

your  intention.  He  said  that  the  Emperor  would 
object  to  the  sister  of  Count  Ormanof  remain- 
ing at  court,  so  you  would  dismiss  her.  But  I 
told  Marya  that  you  knew  how  much  I  cared  for 
her,  and  would  explain  that  to  the  Emperor." 

"Some  day  Dalmorov  will  learn  discretion," 
Stanief  commented,  almost  too  indolently.  "It 
is  nearly  time.  The  Emperor  did  speak  to  me  of 
the  Countess  Marya,  and  I  pointed  out  to  him 
that  her  brother's  misconduct  did  not  affect  the 
matter  in  the  least;  since  we  are  not  living  in 
China  and  visiting  faults  upon  entire  families. 
Also  I  explained  that  you  rule  your  own  house- 
hold." 

"But  you  govern  us  all,  monseigneur,"  said 
the  Gentle  Princess,  most  naturally.  "I  was  sure 
it  would  be  right  somehow;  I  told  Marya  that 
no  one  who  belonged  to  you  need  be  afraid." 

He  paused  abruptly  in  front  of  her. 

"Then  you  are  not  sorry  that  you  trusted  me 
with  yourself,  Iria?  You  are  not  sorry  any 
longer  that  chance  placed  you  in  my  keeping?" 
185 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

She  leaned  forward  across  the  muff,  her  eyes 
suddenly  wet  in  their  sincerity. 

"Oh,  no,"  she  denied  with  energy.  "No,  mon- 
seigneur.  Ah,  we  do  not  call  such  things  chance, 
we  women  of  the  South,  but  a  higher  name !  I 
have  never  been  sorry  since  that  first  day  on  the 
winter  balcony  when  you  spoke  to  me  so  wonder- 
fully. You — you  are  so  good,  so  kind,  mon- 
seigneur." 

Stanief  looked  into  those  clear  eyes  for  a  long 
moment,  his  own  glance  veiled.  Then  he  gently 
took  one  of  the  little  gloved  hands  and  lifted  it 
to  his  lips. 

"I  seem  to  have  been  born  just  for  that,"  he 
said,  the  sadness  of  his  voice  masked  by  its  even 
control,  "to  guard  what  is  mine.  I  am  glad 
if  I  do  it  passably  well,  Iria.  I  wish  I  could  hope 
that  my  other  ward  would  tell  me  as  much,  some 
day.  Come,  let  us  go  to  the  Emperor." 

She  rose,  softly  flushed  and  smiling,  yet 
vaguely  troubled  by  his  manner. 

"The  Emperor?"  she  ventured.  "He  is  a 
186 


IN    THE    REGENT'S    STUDY 

shadow,  monseigneur !  You  are  not  satisfied  with 
him?" 

"What  do  you  know  of  shadows,  who  are  all 
sunshine?  If  I  imagine  a  cloud  on  the  imperial 
horizon,  it  is  still  no  larger  than  that  bit  of  lace 
in  your  hand.  Also,  the  question  is  rather  if  he 
is  satisfied  with  me,  than  if  I  am  satisfied  with 
him.  Adrian  is — Adrian." 

Together  they  moved  to  the  door. 


1ST 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE    TURN    IN    THE    ROAD 

IT  was  a  few  weeks  later,  when  the  tardy 
spring  was  awaking  reluctantly  from  its 
long  sleep,  that  Stanief's  cloud  drew  nearer  and 
gained  darker  substance.  Adrian's  increasing 
restiveness  took  the  form  of  active  interference 
with  the  government,  and  not  wisely.  All  that 
was  possible  Stanief  was  willing  to  yield,  if  he 
might  keep  peace,  but  finally  the  impossible  was 
asked. 

It  was  a  question  of  taxes  which  made  the  first 
rift  between  the  cousins,  a  question  with  which 
the  young  Emperor  had  nothing  to  do.  The  tax 
had  been  imposed  during  the  period  of  read- 
justment; now,  owing  to  the  Regent's  skilled 
government,  it  was  no  longer  necessary  and  he 
proposed  to  remove  it.  To  the  amazement  of  all 
concerned,  Adrian  chose  to  object. 
188 


THE    TURN   IN    THE    ROAD 

Plainly  enough  Stanief  saw  Dalmorov's  in- 
fluence behind  the  opposition,  and  saw  himself 
bound  to  persistence  both  by  policy  and  an  im- 
plied promise  to  the  people.  Not  as  yet  had  the 
tax;  been  removed,  but  he  most  courteously  had 
reminded  Adrian  that  no  one  possessed  the 
power  of  interference  with  the  measure.  The 
result  had  been  inevitable ;  Adrian  sulked  and  the 
Regent's  enemies  furtively  rejoiced. 

So  opened  the  last  year  of  the  regency.  If 
on  the  first  night  of  the  first  year  Stanief  had 
claimed  check  of  his  opponent,  now,  gazing 
across  the  half-cleared  board,  Dalmorov  could 
return  the  cry. 

Meanwhile  the  suite  of  the  sullen  young  sov- 
ereign suffered  much  from  his  caprices;  until 
finally  Iria  and  Allard  were  the  only  two  his 
caustic  tongue  spared  and  his  ill  humor  passed 
by.  They  alone  did  not  dread  the  honor  of  at- 
tending him.  And  at  last  he  even  contrived  to 
give  Allard  the  sting  of  many  rewakened  mem- 
ories. 

189 


THE   GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

"Allard,"  he  remarked  one  morning,  "you 
never  told  me  more  than  just  that  you  were  an 
American.  From  what  state  are  you  ?" 

They  were  alone  together,  two  learned  and 
exhausted  professors  having  just  taken  leave  of 
as  trying  a  listener  as  could  well  be  conceived. 
Across  the  book-strewn  table  Adrian  contem- 
plated the  other,  meditatively  at  ease. 

"I  am  a  Californian,  sire,"  was  the  reply. 

"Come  show  me  where  in  this  atlas,  pour 
s'amuser.  Your  California  is  not  small,  if  I  rec- 
ollect." 

Allard  came  over  obediently  and  found  the 
map,  pointing  out  the  city  remembered  so  well 
and  so  sadly. 

"There,  sire,  near  that  little  bay.  Our  place 
lay  beyond  the  town ;  we  called  the  house  Sun- 
Kist." 

"The  house  was  near  the  bay  ?" 

"Very  near.  We  used  to  sail  and  fish  there. 
Just  here  lay  the  yacht  club,  where  Robert  kept 
his  motor-boat — "  He  broke  off  and  turned 
190 


THE    TURN   IN   THE    ROAD 

away  more  abruptly  than  strict  etiquette  al- 
lowed. 

Adrian  deliberately  drew  his  pencil  through 
the  name  on  the  map. 

"Robert?"  he  queried. 

"Robert  Allard,  sire,  my  younger  brother.  He 
died  two  years  ago." 

"Soon  after  you  came  here,  then?" 

"While  I  was  on  the  Nadeja,  sire,  making  the 
voyage." 

"Have  you  no  other  relatives  there?" 

"Yes;  my  aunt,  Mrs.  Leslie,  and  my  cousin, 
her  daughter." 

Adrian  studied  his  companion's  pallor  with  a 
certain  scientific  interest,  idly  scribbling  on  the 
margin  of  the  atlas  without  regarding  what  he 
wrote. 

"You  regret  your  home?"  he  inquired. 

Allard  bit  his  lip  to  steady  its  quiver,  fiercely 
unwilling  to  bare  his  old  pain  for  the  diversion 
of  this  coldly  ennuied  inquisitor. 

"There  is  nothing  to  call  me  home,  sire,"  he 
191 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

replied.  "My  brother  is  not  living,  and  my 
cousin,  who  was  betrothed  to  him,  has  no  wish 
or  need  of  me.  I  think  I  never  want  to  see  the 
place  as  it  is  now.  My  life  is  here." 

"You  loved  her,"  Adrian  said  calmly.  "How 
much  you  give  one  another,  you  quiet,  gray-eyed 
people!  Do  not  look  like  that,  Allard;"  he  ac- 
tually smiled.  "I  am  too  used  to  my  intricate  and 
intriguing  subjects  to  fail  in  reading  your  truth- 
fulness. And  I  have  not  watched  you  with  the 
ladies  of  the  court  without  learning  that  some 
woman,  one  that  you  loved,  sat  at  the  door  of 
your  heart." 

Allard  wavered  between  exasperation  and 
helpless  dismay  at  the  other's  acuteness;  there 
were  occasions  when  his  Imperial  Majesty  was 
almost  uncanny.  But  he  ended  by  remaining  si- 
lent, as  usual.  Adrian  at  fourteen  had  been 
anything  but  a  child;  now,  at  sixteen,  he  was 
fairly  matched  with  Stanief  himself,  and  the 
lesser  players  stood  back  at  a  distance  from  the 
contest  of  wills.  From  those  players  Allard  had 
192 


THE    TURN   IN   THE    ROAD 

learned  the  wise  habit  of  drawing  aside  to  let 
the  Emperor's  moods  sweep  past. 

"You  and  Iria,"  Adrian  added,  after  a  mo- 
ment during  which  his  thin,  high-bred  face  hard- 
ened strangely  and  not  happily,  "you  two  at 
least  are  transparent,  and  free  from  under- 
thoughts.  What  time  is  it?" 

Allard  glanced  at  his  watch. 

"Eleven  o'clock,  sire." 

"You  need  not  go  when  the  Grand  Duke  ar- 
rives ;  I  may  want  you  afterward.  Allard — " 

"Sire?" 

"I  have  been  kind  to  you,  if  to  no  one  else,  I 
think.  Kind,  and  constant.  Perhaps  I  have 
guarded  you  from  more  pitfalls  set  by  envy  than 
you  can  conceive,  or  would  credit.  And  you  have 
served  me,  not  Feodor  or  another.  If  you  were 
forced  to  the  choice  now,  would  you  follow  the 
Regent  or  me?" 

The  question  could  not  have  been  more  un- 
expected or  more  difficult.  Allard  caught  his 
breath,  utterly  at  a  loss.  Deceive  Adrian  he 
193 


THE   GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

would  not.  To  forsake  Stanief  even  in  appear- 
ance was  not  to  be  considered,  and  yet  to  exas- 
perate the  jealous  and  exacting  Emperor  still 
further  against  his  cousin  was  bitterly  unneces- 
sary. 

"Sire—" 

"Go  on." 

But  he  could  not  go  on,  his  ideas  in  hopeless 
confusion. 

"I  am  waiting." 

"Sire,  the  Regent,"  he  admitted  with  desperate 
candor. 

Adrian  laid  his  pencil  carefully  on  the  map 
and  closed  the  atlas,  saying  nothing  at  all.  Al- 
lard  flushed  to  the  roots  of  his  fair  hair. 

"Not  that  I  am  ungrateful,"  he  protested  in 
hot  distress.  "Not  that  I  do  not  remember,  do 
not  understand  all  that  you  have  done  for  me, 
sire.  And  against  you  I  would  serve  no  one,  not 
even  him.  I  would  hold  my  life  a  slight  thing 
to  give  either  of  you.  Sire,"  he  took  a  step  for- 
ward, his  ardent  gaze  seeking  the  other's  com- 
194 


THE   TURN  IN   THE   ROAD 

prehension,  "before  the  brother  I  loved,  the 
woman  I  love,  before  any  call,  I  would  follow 
the  Regent.  He —  I  have  no  words  for  it.  It  is 
not  that  my  loyalty  to  your  Majesty  is  less,  but 
that  he  claims  me  against  the  world." 

"Happy  Feodor,"  said  Adrian  coolly.  "Do 
not  distress  yourself,  Allard ;  if  you  had  told  me 
anything  else  I  should  not  have  believed  you. 
Why,"  he  suddenly  lifted  to  the  amazed  Amer- 
ican a  glance  all  cordial,  "it  is  pleasant  to  find 
that  loyalty  to  any  one  still  exists,  to  find  one 
rock  in  this  shaking  quagmire.  Here  is  the  Re- 
gent ;  go  down  the  room  and  find  a  book  to  read 
until  we  finish." 

Dazed,  Allard  mechanically  obeyed  so  far  as 
to  move  down  the  apartment  and  pick  up  a  book. 
But  keen  anxiety  for  the  friend  he  could  not  aid 
kept  his  attention  on  the  interview  that  followed, 
although  it  was  beyond  his  hearing. 

Stanief  crossed  to  his  ward  with  the  dignified 
formality  never  relaxed  between  them,  and  bent 
over  the  offered  hand.  No  shade  of  expression 
195 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

foretold  the  announcement  both  knew  he  was 
come  to  make,  nor  was  Adrian  on  his  part  less 
impassive.  The  petulant  boy  of  two  years  be- 
fore had  become  a  slim,  self-contained  youth, 
whose  bearing,  no  less  than  his  elaborate  uni- 
form, added  much  to  his  apparent  age  and 
height.  If  his  dark  young  face  did  not  resemble 
his  cousin's  except  in  feature,  the  difference  was 
not  in  lack  of  equal  firmness. 

"Iria  did  not  come  to-day?"  was  the  non- 
chalant greeting. 

"No,  sire.  She  was  fatigued  after  last  night's 
reception,  and  we  did  not  understand  your  de- 
sire." 

"Oh,  I  expressed  none,  except  as  it  is  always 
pleasant  to  see  her.  Madame  was  adorable  last 
night,  a  very  flower  of  her  delicious  South.  It 
occurred  to  me  that  you  yourself,  cousin,  did  not 
appear  to  feel  so  well  as  usual." 

"I  was  tired,  sire,"  he  replied  simply. 

Adrian  frowned  with  some  other  emotion  than 
anger,  darting  a  swift  regard  at  Stanief,  who 
196 


THE    TURN   IN    THE    ROAI> 

leaned  back  in  his  chair  with  a  listlessness  rare 
indeed  in  him.  The  Regent  also  had  changed  in 
the  last  two  years ;  one  does  not  mold  a  chaotic, 
struggling  mass  of  conflicting  elements  into  a 
ball  to  match  the  scepter  without  paying  a  price. 
Yet  if  the  habit  of  command  had  curved  a  little 
more  firmly  the  firm  lips,  if  deep  thoughts  and 
watchful  diplomacy  had  darkened  calmness  to 
gravity,  some  other  and  subtler  influences  had 
brought  a  singular  underlying  gentleness  to  his 
expression  and  kept  hardness  at  bay.  Adrian 
turned  away  his  head  half-impatiently,  and  did 
not  speak  at  once. 

"You  devote  too  close  an  attention  to  state  af- 
fairs, cousin,"  he  rejoined.  "Next  year  we  will 
relieve  you  of  them." 

The  accent  was  more  than  the  words ;  together 
they  brought  Stanief's  color. 

"I  shall  resign  my  charge  most  willingly, 
sire,"  he  answered,  with  dignity. 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  it;  I  fancied  you  might 
miss  the  regal  game  and  find  life  monotonous. 
197 


THE   GAME    AND   THE    CANDLE 

You  have  taken  the  task  so  completely  from  my 
hands  that  it  causes  no  surprise  to  find  you  are 
wearied.  I  admit  that  you  have  spared  me  even 
the  fatigue  of  consulting  my  wishes  or  opinions 
in  regard  to  the  government." 

"The  accusation  is  hardly  just,  sire.  A  sug- 
gestion of  yours  has  never  been  disregarded  nor 
has  it  failed  of  its  serious  effect." 

"Ah?"  drawled  Adrian,  with  his  most  aggra- 
vating incredulity  in  the  inflection. 

Stanief  raised  his  lashes  and  met  the  other's 
eyes  steadfastly.  Both  comprehended  the  situa- 
tion perfectly,  comprehended  the  imminent  break 
Adrian  was  forcing.  And  the  Emperor  did  not 
soon  forget  the  direct  sorrow  and  reproach  of 
that  glance.  But  Stanief  attempted  no  defense. 

"Because,"  Adrian  resumed,  fixing  his  eyes 
on  the  table  before  him,  "I  have  been  told  other- 
wise. I  am  rejoiced  to  learn  the  truth  from  you, 
cousin ;  especially  as  a  rumor  reached  me  this 
morning  that  a  certain  tax  had  been  removed, 
against  my  wish.  You  doubtless  know  the  meas- 
198 


ure  of  which  I  speak.  I  am  glad  to  find  it  is  not 
so." 

"Pardon,  sire ;  it  is  so,"  was  the  calm  reply. 

"The  tax  is  removed?" 

"Yes,  sire." 

The  Adrian  of  two  years  before  would  have 
burst  into  furious  passion;  the  one  of  to-day 
simply  rose  and  walked  to  the  nearest  window. 
Stanief  necessarily  rose  also,  and  stood  by  his 
chair,  waiting.  At  the  opposite  end  of  the  room 
Allard  clenched  his  hands  in  helpless  nervous- 
ness, forgetting  to  keep  his  pretense  of  reading. 
The  low  voices,  the  leisurely  movements  of  the 
two,  had  not  masked  from  him  the  crisis  for  the 
hopes  and  plans  of  years. 

But  Adrian  made  no  scene.  Probably  no  one 
realized  less  than  the  Regent  himself  how  much 
the  example  of  his  own  self-control  had  taught 
the  same  quality  to  his  ward.  When  the  young 
Emperor  came  back,  only  his  extreme  pallor  be- 
trayed the  tempest  within. 

"Very  well,"  he  said  resolutely.  "Amuse 
199 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

yourself,  my  cousin ;  I  can  wait.  Eleven  months, 
is  it  not?" 

The  break,  and  the  menace.  Stanief  saluted 
him  quietly. 

"A  trifle  less  than  eleven  months,  sire.  May  I 
assume  your  Imperial  Majesty's  permission  to 
retire?  I  suppose  it  is  scarcely  worth  while  to 
reiterate  the  arguments  as  to  the  necessity  of 
my  action." 

"Scarcely.  Do  not  let  me  detain  you  from 
your  many  affairs,  cousin.  Ah,  I  believe  Dal- 
morov  is  waiting  out  there ;  let  me  tax  your  cour- 
tesy so  far  as  to  ask  you  to  send  him  to  me." 

He  extended  his  hand  carelessly ;  no  longer  as 
a  sign  of  friendliness,  but  as  a  compulsion  of 
homage. 

"It  is  for  you  to  command,  sire,"  was  Stanief 's 
proudly  unmoved  response. 

Adrian  looked  down  at  the  bent  head  and  put 
out  his  left  hand  in  rapid,  curious  gesture,  al- 
most as  if  to  touch  caressingly  the  heavy  ripples 
of  dark  hair, — the  merest  abortive  movement, 
200 


Will  you  ride  with  me,  Monseigneur?  "     Page  201 


THE    TURN   IN    THE    ROAD 

for  the  hand  fell  again  at  his  side  before  even 
Allard  saw. 

"Thank  you,"  he  acknowledged  composedly, 
and  watched  the  other  go. 

Dalmorov  entered  presently,  radiant  with  sat- 
isfaction, but  Allard  could  have  borne  witness 
that  the  baron  passed  no  pleasant  hour  with  his 
irritable  and  irritating  master.  Like  the  fleck 
of  a  lash  Adrian's  tongue  touched  each  weakness 
and  stung  each  exposed  hope  of  the  courtier 
three  times  his  age,  until  even  the  distrait  Amer- 
ican found  himself  compelled  to  amusement. 

Stanief  did  not  ride  home  that  morning  with 
the  cheerful  Vasili  and  bored  Rosal,  who 
awaited  him.  As  he  came  down  the  wide  steps 
between  the  usual  parting,  obsequious  crowds, 
a  girl  leaned  from  a  victoria  that  stood  in  the 
place  of  his  own  carriage, — Iria,  opposite  her 
the  pale  young  Countess  Marya. 

"Will  you  ride  with  me,  monseigneur?"  in- 
vited the  Gentle  Princess,  with  her  deliciously 
confiding  glance  and  smile.  "We  were  on  the 
201 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

promenade,  and  I  thought  perhaps  you  would 
have  finished — " 

A  knot  of  early  daffodils  was  tucked  in  her 
girdle,  the  spring  breeze  fluttered  a  bright 
strand  of  crinkled  bronze  against  her  brighter 
cheek ;  all  the  youth  of  the  year  was  in  the  happy 
face  she  lifted  to  him.  Stanief  paused  with  his 
foot  on  the  step  to  look  at  her,  many  thoughts 
meeting  in  his  drowsily-brilliant  eyes. 

"Thank  you,"  he  answered.  "I  wonder  if  you 
will  ever  come  for  me  again,  Iria,  after  I  have 
finished  here  indeed." 

An  innocent  surprise  and  pleasure  dawned  in 
her  expression. 

"I  will  come  every  day,  if  you  like,  monseig- 
neur,"  she  offered.  "I  did  not  know  you  cared." 

He  took  the  seat  beside  her,  with  a  courteous 
salute  to  Marya. 

"You  are  gracious,  as  always.  I  did  not  mean 
exactly  that,  although  you  can  not  guess  how 
pleasant  it  was  to  find  you  here  to-day.  Live 
your  pretty  routine  and  fancies.  Duchess  of 


THE    TURN   IN   THE    ROAD 

Dreams,  and  give  me  the  alms  of  time  you  can 
not  use." 

They  spoke  in  Iria's  soft  native  tongue,  which 
the  Countess  Mary  a  did  not  understand  and 
which  Stanief  had  learned  long  before  in  some 
of  the  Nadeja's  nomadic  voyages.  Always  gentle 
to  the  gentle  Iria,  to-day  his  voice  carried  an 
added  tenderness  which  stirred  her  to  vague 
unrest  and  wistfulness. 

"You  do  not  mean  that,"  she  said,  troubled. 
"How  should  I  have  any  time  that  is  not  yours, 
monseigneur?  And  my  fancies — you  can  not 
know  how  many  of  them  are  wishes  that  I  might 
prove  a  little,  only  a  little,  of  all  your  kindness 
makes  me  feel.  I  wish,  how  much  I  wish,  that  I 
could  do  something  for  you !" 

The  victoria  was  rolling  through  the  busy, 
cheerful  streets ;  vehicles  making  way  for  it  in 
respectful  haste,  people  saluting  with  more  than 
mere  formality  and  following  the  Regent  with 
grateful  eyes.  Stanief's  city,  Stanief's  country 
this,  drawn  by  him  out  of  anarchy  into  order, 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

out  of  suffering  into  peace.  The  people  knew, 
and  he  knew.  He  looked  across  it  all  now  before 
answering,  battling  with  fierce  loneliness  and 
rebellion. 

"Iria,  what  I  have  done  for  you  is  nothing. 
You  are  my  wife,"  there  was  no  mockery  in  the 
quietly  spoken  word,  "and  claim  all  I  can  give. 
But,  since  we  are  alone  except  for  each  other 
and  have  been  placed  together,  would  you  care 
to  save  my  pride  some  day  by  stepping  at  my 
side  out  of  this  court?  By  giving  me  the  dignity 
of  holding  my  household  above  the  wreck  ?" 

Startled  and  dismayed,  she  turned  to  him. 

"Monseigneur,  I  do  not  understand!  You, 
you  to  speak  of  wreck!  Oh,  and  you  ask  me 
that,  you  doubt?" 

He  laid  his  hand  warningly  on  hers. 

"We  are  under  a  hundred  eyes,  Iria.  You  live 
aloof  from  politics  and  intrigues,  but  yet  you 
know  my  regency  ends  in  a  few  months." 

"You  mean — the  Emperor?" 

"The  Emperor  has  never  trusted  me,  never  for- 
204 


THE    TURN   IN   THE    ROAD 

given  me  for  the  chance  which  set  me  as  ruler 
of  his  country.  There  is  no  danger  of  the  old 
kind ;  the  days  of  state  executions  are  past,  or  I 
would  never  have  survived  the  last  reign.  But 
when  Adrian  assumes  command  it  will  undoubt- 
edly mean  that  I  lay  aside  all  you  have  seen  of 
me,  and  retire  a  simple  gentleman  of  leisure  to 
my  estates.  No  more  will  I  play  'the  regal  game,' 
as  Adrian  expressed  it  to-day.  Could  you  brave 
that,  Iria,  to  be  no  longer  the  center  of  a  bril- 
liant court?  To  live  the  stately  monotony  of  my 
life  in  the  old  castle  among  the  mountains,  or 
perhaps  travel  to  other  countries  as  just  the 
wife  of  the  Grand  Duke  Feodor  Stanief,  who  is 
of  no  more  importance  than  any  noble?  For 
Adrian  will  want  to  keep  you,  if  you  will  stay." 

The  little  hand  under  his  turned  to  clasp  his 
fingers ;  star-eyed,  richly  tinted  with  excitement, 
Iria  leaned  to  him. 

"With  you,  let  me  be  with  you.  I  am  afraid 
of  nothing  with  you,  without  you  of  everything. 
Oh,  monseigneur,  do  you  not  see  that  what  you 
205 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

lose  are  a  man's  desires,  not  a  woman's?  Power, 
political  influence,  to  guide  and  rule — what  do 
such  names  mean  to  me?  I  shall  miss  nothing; 
it  is  only  you  who  will  grieve  and  regret." 

"My  dear,  my  dear,"  said  Stanief  unsteadily, 
and  turned  away  his  face  before  a  new  hope 
which  out-dazzled  all  the  morning's  pictured  loss. 

"It  is  so,  only  do  not  speak  again  of  leaving 
me  here.  I  love  the  Emperor,  but  I  am  afraid  of 
him.  And  if  he  can  treat  you  in  this  way — '" 

"Hush;  never  blame  him,  however  alone  you 
fancy  us.  If  you  can  help  it,  do  not  let  him 
guess  that  I  have  told  you  of  this.  And  for  the 
rest,  the  fault  is  more  Dalmorov's  than  his." 

"I  will  not,"  she  promised.  And  after  a  mo- 
ment, "Some  one  else  will  follow  you  always, 
monseigneur." 

He  knew  the  answer  before  he  asked  the  ques- 
tion, and  the  light  went  suddenly  from  his  face, 
leaving  it  to  all  the  old  grave  endurance. 

"Who,  Irfa?" 

"Monsieur  Allard,"  she  replied. 
206 


Stanief  again  looked  across  the  teeming 
streets ;  it  was  as  if  a  chill,  intangible  mist  stole 
up  from  the  near-by  river  and  drew  its  cold 
grayness  between  the  two  who  sat  side  by  side. 

"John  is  a  loyal  gentleman,"  he  said,  with- 
out anger ;  "I  value  you  both  above  all  else.  For 
two  years  I  have  walked  without  seeing  beyond 
a  certain  point,  to-day  I  have  come  to  a  turn  in 
the  road  and  on  ahead  I  see  my  destination.  Not 
the  end  I  hoped,  perhaps,  but  at  least  I  know. 
And  I  thank  you  for  the  household  security 
which  you  have  given  to  me,  my  poor  child." 

The  carriage  stopped  in  front  of  the  quaintly 
splendid  Palace  Stanief.  Iria  lingered  before  ac- 
cepting the  Regent's  aid  to  descend,  her  delicate 
lip  curving  distressedly. 

"Do  not  call  me  that,  please,"  she  begged. 
"Because  you  have  made  me  very  happy,  mon- 
seigneur." 

The  perfume  of  her  daffodils  was  about  him, 
faint,  virginal,  bitter-sweet  as  her  presence  in 
his  house.  Stanief  deliberately  painted  to  him- 
207 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

self  the  fierce  delight  of  catching  her  in  his  arms, 
of  pressing  the  little  sunny  head  to  him  and 
crushing  her  sweet  ignorance  out  of  existence 
with  one  kiss  she  could  never  forget.  But  his 
hand  did  not  even  close  upon  the  small  one  rest- 
ing in  it. 

"Then  I  have  lived  to  some  purpose,"  he  re- 
sponded serenely. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE    INTERVENTION    OP   ADRIAN 

FOR  Iria  to  attempt  to  hide  a  change  of 
thought  from  the  keen-eyed  and  sophisti- 
cated Adrian  with  his  clairvoyant  faculty  of 
penetration  was  as  futile  as  for  a  flower  to  re- 
solve to  shut  from  the  sun  the  drop  of  dew  in 
its  golden  heart.  A  week  after  her  morning 
drive  with  Stanief,  when  Iria  was  passing  one 
of  her  usual  hours  with  the  Emperor,  he  coolly 
put  his  finger  on  her  secret. 

"You  are  not  yourself,  cousine,"  he  observed. 
"What  has  Feodor  been  telling  you  of  me  ?" 

"Oh!"  Iria  exclaimed  in  distress,  regarding 
her  youthful  sovereign  with  wide,  astonished 
eyes. 

Adrian  smiled  with  his  fine  malice. 

"Come,  confess.  Or  shall  I  guess?  I  am  un- 
grateful, unappreciative,  and  swayed  by  Dal- 
209 


THE    GAME   AND   THE    CANDLE 

morov;  not  so?  Moreover  I  am  dangerous,  and 
making  my  Regent  extremely  uncomfortable." 

"Oh,  no,  sire.  He  bade  me  never  blame  you, 
indeed.  He  said  nothing  like  that,"  denied 
madame  impetuously,  then  stopped  short. 

"Then  what  did  he  tell  you?" 

"But  I  was  not  to  repeat,"  she  pleaded. 

This  time  Adrian  laughed  outright  and 
leaned  forward  to  capture  one  of  the  lily-leaf 
hands  and  lift  it  to  his  lips.  They  were  seated  in 
the  great  octagonal  library,  which  of  all  the 
palace  was  the  Emperor's  favorite  room,  Iria  em- 
ployed with  a  bit  of  the  intricate  embroidery  al- 
ways brought  at  his  especial  request.  He  was 
fond  of  watching  her  while  her  attention  was 
fixed  on  the  pretty  task ;  and  until  a  few  months 
before  Stanief  had  not  infrequently  made  a  third 
at  the  gracious  pretense  of  domesticity.  To-day, 
at  the  opposite  side  of  the  apartment  and  out 
of  hearing,  Allard  chatted  with  two  of  Irfa's 
ladies. 

"You  have  not  repeated,  cousine"  the  in- 
210 


THE    INTERVENTION    OF   ADRIAN 

quisitor  assured  her.  "I  myself  guessed.  And 
since  I  appear  to  have  guessed  worse  than  the 
truth,  you  had  better  correct  me.  I  will  not  tell 
Feodor." 

She  looked  up  at  him  then,  flushing  all  over. 

"If  I  tell  you,  sire,"  she  retorted  with  pride, 
"I  shall  say  so  to  monseigneur  as  soon  as  I  see 
him.  Must  I  speak?" 

"I  think  you  had  better,  chere  cousine." 

She  laid  the  glowing  tissue  in  her  lap  and 
met  the  raillery  of  his  glance  quite  seriously. 

"Then  I  will  try  to  remember,  sire,  because 
the  truth  is  always  much  the  best  to  know.  And 
I  am  certain  you  would  not  ask  me  to  hurt  him. 
He  asked  me  if  I  would  be  ready  to  go  with  him 
when  the  regency  ended  and  you  sent  him  from 
court.  He  said  that  you  had  never  trusted  him, 
and  could  not  forgive  him  for  the  government 
forced  upon  him.  That  was  all,  indeed.  Except 
that  he  did  say  you  thought  highly  of  Baron 
Dalmorov;  and,  and,  a  few  words  just  for  me." 

Adrian  passed  his  hand  across  his  eyes  as  if 


THE    GAME   AND   THE    CANDLE 

to  push  back  the  hair  from  his  forehead,  and 
remained  silent  for  a  few  seconds. 

"If  Feodor  is  not  happy,  he  pays  the  penalty 
of  having  ruled,"  he  returned,  his  strange  un- 
youthful  bitterness  most  repellant.  "I  am  not 
happy,  nor  was  my  father,  nor  his  father  be- 
fore him.  And  you  would  leave  me  to  go  with 
him,  couslne?  Think  of  it  again.  I  offer  you 
your  household  in  the  capital ;  until  some  day  I 
marry,  you  will  be  still  the  first  lady  of  my  court. 
I  loved  you  the  first  time  I  met  you  in  Italy ;  you 
were  so  gentle,  so  different  from  all  I  knew.  I 
was  only  a  boy,  Iria,  but  I  resolved  to  bring 
you  to  my  country  some  way ;  and  I  succeeded. 
What  has  Feodor  to  give  compared  with  all  I 
hold  for  you?  Will  you  stay?" 

"But  I  am  his  wife,"  she  answered  simply. 
"How  could  I  stay,  sire?" 

"You  love  him  so  ?" 

Iria  grew  pale,  then  raised  her  hands  to  her 
cheeks  to  cover  the  returning  color  that  dyed 
even  her  temples. 


THE    INTERVENTION   OF    ADRIAN 

"I — I  do  not  know,"  she  faltered,  aghast  at  a 
question  never  asked  even  of  herself.  "I — no — 
he  does  not  me — " 

He  stared  at  her,  for  once  thoroughly  amazed. 

"He  does  not  love  you?"  he  echoed.  "You  do 
not  know?  Why,  Iria — " 

She  flashed  into  the  first  and  last  anger  he 
ever  saw  in  her. 

"You  forced  us  to  marry  each  other,  sire. 
We  did  not  want  it,  no!"  she  cried,  and  raised 
the  little,  useless  handkerchief  to  her  eyes. 

There  was  a  pause,  then  Adrian  dismissed  the 
subject  with  a  sentence  that  gave  his  companion 
food  for  thought  during  many  a  day  to  come. 

"Poor  Feodor,"  he  said  very  compassionately. 
"Twice." 

At  the  other  end  of  the  library  Allard  hesi- 
tated, broke  the  thread  of  his  gay  speech,  and 
caught  it  up  again  incoherently. 

"What  is  it?"  queried  the  Countess  Marya 
playfully. 

"Monsieur  Allard  looks  at  the  agitation  of 
213 


THE   GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

madame,"  murmured  the  petite  Baroness  Alexia. 

All  three  regarded  the  pair  opposite,  and  ex- 
changed significant  glances. 

"Lieutenant  Vasili  told  me  that  Baron  Dal- 
morov  spent  two  hours  with  the  Emperor  last 
night.  Is  it  so,  monsieur?"  added  Alexia. 

"Yes,  Baroness,"  admitted  Allard  soberly. 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"I  am  to  be  married  in  September,  myself. 
But  I  do  care  for  the  Grand  Duchess;  I  am 
sorry  for — this." 

"I  love  the  Grand  Duchess,"  said  Marya 
quickly.  "And  the  Regent  has  been  most  good 
to  me.  Where  they  go,  there  go  I." 

Allard  winced  even  in  the  approving  smile  he 
sent  the  pale  young  maid  of  honor,  so  hard  it 
was  to  hear  Stanief's  fall  predicted  and  dis- 
cussed. 

Iria  recovered  herself  almost  immediately  and 
brought  her  gold-and-topaz  eyes  back  to  those 
of  the  Emperor. 

"I  would  like  to  go,  if  I  may,  sire,"  she  said. 


THE    INTERVENTION   OF   ADRIAN 

"Are  you  offended  with  me,  cousins?" 

"Certainly  not,  sire." 

He  watched  her  fold  the  gleaming  embroidery, 
tapping  his  fingers  restlessly  on  the  arm  of  his 
chair. 

"You  would  go,  and  Allard,"  he  mused  aloud, 
"each  after  a  duty,  a  love,  an  aim.  I  wonder  if 
there  was  ever  but  one  who  centered  all  such 
thoughts  in  me,  who  made  me  the  axis  of  his 
world?" 

"You  think  of  Baron  Dalmorov,  sire?"  she 
ventured., 

He  gave  her  the  desired  permission  by  rising. 

"You  are  anxious  to  go,  cousine;   pardon. 

Why,  yes,  Dalmorov;  who  else?     Allard,"  he 

•  turned  to  summon  the  others,  "Allard  will  have 

the  honor  of  accompanying  you  to  the  carriage." 

"No,"  protested  Iria,  but  too  late. 

"No?  You  do  not  wish  AUard's  escort?"  he 
demanded 

"Oh,  yes,  I — of  course."  She  turned  hur- 
riedly from  him,  then  looked  back  with  a  ges- 
215 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

(ture  of  helpless  bewilderment  and  distress.  "I 
wish  you  had  not  spoken,  sire;  I  wish  you  had 
not  spoken." 

And  as  the  others  came  up,  she  passed  her 
hand  through  Marya's  arm  and  left  Allard  and 
Alexia  to  follow. 

All  that  day  Stanief  was  immersed  in  councils 
and  affairs.  Not  until  evening  did  he  and  Iria 
meet,  when  she  stopped  in  his  study  on  her  way 
to  the  opera,  where  no  less  a  cavalier  than  the 
Emperor  was  to  take  her  husband's  place  with 
her. 

Standing  straight  and  slim  before  him,  her 
head  drooping  under  its  weight  of  silken  floss 
and  spanning  jewels,  her  soft  throat  and  dim- 
pled shoulders  crossed  and  recrossed  by  the 
manifold  strands  of  the  wonderful  Stanief  pink 
pearls,  she  repeated  the  conversation  of  the 
morning.  Repeated  it,  all  except  the  last  part. 
Her  eyes  downcast,  her  gloved  fingers  twisted 
nervously  together,  the  rosy  gems  gleaming  un- 
easily with  her  rapid  breathing,  it  was  the  Iria 
216 


THE    INTERVENTION    OF   ADRIAN 

of  long  ago  he  saw,  the  timid,  shrinking  girl 
whom  Allard  had  brought  from  Spain. 

Sensitive  as  a  woman  to  the  change,  Stanief 
gazed  and  listened,  finding  no  explanation  in  the 
story  she  related. 

"That  is  all?"  he  asked  gently,  when  she 
ended. 

"Yes,"  she  said  faintly.  "All  that  matters, 
monseigneur." 

"You,"  he  hesitated  a  moment  for  the  right 
words.  "You  are  not  troubled,  or  displeased, 
Iria?" 

She  retreated  a  step,  bending  to  gather  round 
her  the  trailing  satin  and  lace  folds. 

"No,"  she  answered.  "No,  monseigneur. 
Good  night." 

Without  his  will,  without  his  act,  the  delicate 
confidence  between  them  was  shattered.  The 
frail,  exquisite  understanding  that  was  too  slight 
for  friendship,  too  pale  for  love,  had  been  de- 
stroyed. Afterward,  in  the  days  which  fol- 
lowed, Stanief  came  to  look  back  on  that  month 
217 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

as  the  time  when  two  existences  crumbled  under 
his  touch. 

When  she  had  gone,  he  sat  still  for  many  mo- 
ments. 

"Adrian  or  Dalmorov,"  he  decided.  "I  won- 
der—" 

He  touched  the  bell,  the  old  dangerous  drowsi- 
ness settling  over  his  expression. 

"Dimitri,  you  remember  that  I  once  placed  in 
your  charge  a  man  found  in  this  room?" 

"Certainly,  your  Royal  Highness." 

"Have  him  brought  to  me ;  I  am  ready  to  see 
him." 

Dimitri  saluted  and  vanished.  All  uncon- 
sciously, Irfa's  taper,  snowy  fingers  had  touched 
the  pieces  on  the  grim  chess-board,  and  moved 
them  ever  so  slightly. 


218 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE    ORDEAI, 

FOR  Allard  that  last  summer  of  the  regency 
brought  the  hardest  of  all  things  for  a 
loving  heart  to  bear :  to  stand  in  the  shelter  and 
watch  a  friend  in  the  storm,  to  be  forced  to  wit- 
ness where  unable  to  aid.  No  personal  humilia- 
tion could  have  affected  him  so  painfully  as  to 
see  Stanief  under  the  Emperor's  stinging  sar- 
casms and  cold,  young  insolence,  to  note  the  fur- 
tive words  and  glances  of  the  men  who  still 
courted  present  power  while  predicting  its  fu- 
ture fall. 

Never  after  that  morning  of  the  contest  of 
wills  between  the  cousins,  did  Adrian's  unfor- 
giving sullenness  lessen  or  relent.  Day  after  day 
the  Regent  paid  his  formal  visit  and  endured  the 
ordeal  with  chill  dignity.  Day  after  day  Adrian 
received  him  in  the  presence  of  Dalmorov  or 
219 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

half  a  dozen  young  nobles  of  the  capital ;  usually 
on  the  point  of  going  out,  and  so  making  the 
brief  interview  a  mere  farce.  Only  one  courtesy 
the  Emperor  conceded  to  the  self-respect  of  both ; 
never  did  he  make  the  least  hint  of  menace  or  fu- 
ture reckoning  except  when  the  cousins  were 
alone  or  with  Allard.  By  inference  alone  could 
the  rest  of  the  court  foretell  the  coming  end. 

And  Dalmorov  was  radiant.  His  spare  figure 
actually  dilated  and  gained  weight  in  these  days 
of  victory,  his  eye-glasses  poised  a  trifle  more 
superciliously  before  his  pale  eyes.  Stanief 
looked  above  and  past  him  with  a  certain  lofty 
indifference,  but  between  Dalmorov  and  the 
chafing,  aching  Allard  a  clash  was  inevitable. 
As  they  seldom  met  except  when  Adrian's  desire 
for  both  compelled,  it  was  not  surprising  that  in 
his  presence  that  clash  occurred. 

It  was  after  Stanief  had  passed  an  especially 
difficult  and  trying  hour  with  the  Emperor,  an 
hour  which  left  Allard's  nerves  in  quivering  ex- 
asperation. When  at  last  the  Regent  took  leave, 
220 


THE    ORDEAL 

Adrian  rose  at  the  same  time  and  crossed  to  a 
window  with  his  nonchalant  languor  of  move- 
ment. 

"Bring  me  those  glasses  we  were  trying  this 
morning,  Allard,"  he  directed.  "I  want  to  see 
that  ship  entering  the  river." 

But  Allard  did  nothing  of  the  kind.  The 
fourth  one  present,  Dalmorov,  had  just  moved 
aside  from  the  door  with  an  indescribable  smile 
and  bow  to  the  Regent. 

"I  have  the  honor  to  wish  your  Royal  High- 
ness good  morning,"  he  said  sweetly. 

Stanief  glanced  down  at  him,  outwardly  un- 
moved by  the  neglect  of  a  courtesy  compelled  by 
every  rule  of  custom  and  etiquette;  but  before 
embarrassment  was  possible  Allard  sprang  for- 
ward and  himself  held  back  the  door. 

"Thank  you,"  Stanief  said  only,  but  his  eyes 
met  the  gray  ones  in  passing. 

"Really,  Baron,  for  a  diplomat  you  grow  too 
absent-minded,"  commiserated  Allard  softly  to 
his  vis-a-vis.  "One  might  have  imagined  you 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

intended  that  his  Royal  Highness  should  open 
the  door  himself." 

"Since  Monsieur  Allard  has  become  so  learned 
in  etiquette,  he  might  observe  that  the  Emperor 
is  waiting,"  Dalmorov  retorted  viciously. 

Allard  shot  a  glance  at  Adrian,  who  had 
turned  round  just  in  time  to  witness  the  whole 
scene. 

"At  least,  if  I  offend,  I  am  careful  to  offend 
one  who  can  retaliate,  Baron,"  he  flung  back  in 
an  undertone,  as  he  moved  in  quest  of  the  ar- 
ticle demanded. 

"Who  can,  and  whom  you  are  in  no  position  to 
provoke,"  Dalmorov  sent  after  him,  incautiously 
raising  his  tone  with  a  bitter  significance  which 
the  other  failed  to  comprehend. 

"When  you  are  at  leisure,  gentlemen,"  Adri- 
an's voice  interposed  coolly.  "Dalmorov,  I  would 
suggest  that  you  follow  my  cousin  and  explain 
your  unfortunate  lapse  of  memory.  Allard,  I  be- 
lieve I  made  a  request." 

There  was  little  Allard  could  not  have  for- 
222 


THE    ORDEAL 

given  to  Adrian  for  sending  Dalmorov  to  make 
that  apology. 

"I  beg  a  thousand  pardons,  sire,"  he  answered 
contentedly  as  he  crossed  the  room. 

After  all  Adrian  did  not  look  at  his  ship,  but 
remained  leaning  against  the  window  with  his 
reflective  gaze  fixed  on  the  other's  face. 

"I  wonder,"  he  remarked,  when  the  door  had 
closed  behind  Dalmorov,  "if  you  do  things  like 
that  because  you  are  an  American." 

Surprised,  Allard  smiled  involuntarily. 

"Perhaps,  sire,  we  are  rather  sans  gene." 

"You  misunderstand  me,"  he  corrected.  "I 
mean,  do  you  act  as  the  others  would  not,  be- 
cause you  are  not  my  subject  as  they  are?" 

Allard  understood  then,  and  the  implied  ac- 
cusation stung  him  to  hot  anger. 

"No,  sire,"  he  flashed.  "I  have  not  lived  un- 
der your  shelter  and  eaten  your  bread  to  hide 
beneath  another  flag  when  the  scale  turns.  I  am 
an  American,  yes,  but  I  do  not  use  my  nation- 
ality as  a  cloak  for  cowardice.  So  far,  I  have 
223 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

become  your  subject  by  entering  your  service." 

Not  until  long  afterward  did  Allard  read  the 
slow,  half -amused  smile  that  rose  to  the  surface 
of  the  Emperor's  dark  eyes. 

"Very  good,  we  shall  remember,  Monsieur 
rAmericain,"  he  returned,  quite  untroubled  by 
the  other's  indignation.  "Do  not  complain  if 
some  day  I  interfere  with  your  affairs." 

His  affairs?  Allard  puzzled  mentally.  But  he 
received  no  further  explanation,  and  neither  to 
him  nor  Dalmorov  did  Adrian  again  mention  the 
incident. 

Stanief  looked  very  grave  when  Allard  re- 
peated the  scene  to  him. 

"You  have  made  an  active  enemy  of  Dalmorov 
instead  of  a  passive,"  was  his  comment. 

"Why  should  I  care,  monseigneur?  Where 
you  go,  I  follow,  when  the  end  comes." 

"The  end,"  Stanief  echoed  dreamily.  "Every- 
thing does  not  end  for  us  at  once,  John ;  we  leave 
our  treasures  all  along  the  path  as  we  jour- 
ney." 


THE    ORDEAL 

Down  his  self-appointed  path  Stanief  was 
moving  steadfastly  in  those  months.  And  the 
first  treasure  left  behind,  the  hardest  to  resign, 
had  been  Iria's  confidence.  Locked  within  the 
old  timidity,  she  avoided  her  husband  whenever 
it  was  possible  to  do  so,  hiding  her  eyes  from  him 
when  necessity  brought  them  together,  coming 
no  more  to  his  study. 

But  there  was  one  exception:  every  morning, 
after  Stanief's  visit  to  the  palace,  she  waited  for 
him  in  her  carriage.  Silent,  her  hands  clasped 
in  her  lap,  replying  with  hesitating  monosylla- 
bles, she  sat  by  his  side  during  the  drive  home, 
one  of  her  ladies  opposite  them. 

Before  Adrian,  Stanief  lifted  his  head  a  little 
more  proudly,  let  his  lashes  fall  a  little  lower, 
and  went  on  his  way  without  protest.  He  had 
enough  to  do,  as  he  toiled  to  place  the  country 
in  a  position  to  continue  without  him.  Wisely, 
tactfully,  striving  not  to  antagonize  the  Em- 
peror to  the  right  policy  by  claiming  it  as  his 
own,  he  prepared  the  guiding  lines  to  lie  peace- 
225 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

fully  in    the  inexperienced  grasp  soon  to  take 
them. 

It  was  not  a  happy  task,  or  a  light  one,  and 
he  worked  at  it  absolutely  alone  except  for  Al- 
lard's  passionate  and  powerless  sympathy.  But 
still  he  worked.  And  because  there  was  so  much 
to  be  done,  it  seemed  to  him  that  the  days  slipped 
through  his  fingers  like  beads  of  a  broken 
chain. 

So  winter  set  its  seal  of  silence  on  river  and 
snow-muffled  street  before  he  realized  the  fading 
summer.  With  spring  would  end  the  regency. 

"How  many  months  now,  cousin?"  drawled 
the  Emperor,  returning  from  the  races  held  upon 
the  glittering  ice  of  the  river,  and  pausing  on 
the  steps  of  the  palace  to  unclasp  his  too  oppres- 
sive furs. 

"Five,  sire,"  answered  the  tranquil  Regent. 
"I  believe  I  have  to  congratulate  your  Imperial 
Majesty  upon  the  victories  in  to-day's  sport." 

"My  horses?    Ah,  yes;  this  is  my  fortunate 
year.   Thank  you,  cousin." 
226 


THE    ORDEAL 

And  Allard,  in  attendance,  bit  his  lip  until  a 
tiny  thread  of  crimson  sprang  beneath  the  pres- 
sure. 

Faster  and  faster  the  beads  were  slipping 
from  the  chain;  the  path  was  straight  to  the 
end  and  very  short. 


CHAPTER  XV 

AT   THE    GATES   OF    CHANGE 

ONCE  more  Stanief  was  alone  in  his  study, 
on  the  morning  when  Allard  made  his  first 
rebellion.  The  windows  were  open  and  a  warm, 
sweet  breeze  drifted  the  curtains  into  the  room 
like  snowy  mists  from  the  past  winter,  rustling 
on  among  the  papers  upon  the  writing-table,  as 
Stanief  laid  down  his  work  to  listen  to  the  visitor. 
It  was  so  rare  to  see  Allard  excited  and  he  was 
so  vibrant  with  indignation  as  he  stood  before 
the  other. 

"Like  that,"  he  was  declaring  hotly,  speaking 
English  in  his  preoccupation,  "and  Dalmorov 
sneered,  listening.  'My  cousin  is  having  his  fine 
old  country-place  in  the  mountains  renovated, 
Allard,  so  I  am  informed.'  'I  know  nothing, 
sire,'  I  said  'He  is  very  far-sighted,'  he  an- 
swered coolly.  Monseigneur,  I  will  not  go  back ; 
228 


AT    THE    GATES    OF    CHANGE 

I  came  here  to  tell  you  that.  I  am  weary  of 
watching  it;  I  will  stay  with  you.  I  can  come 
here  as  I  always  hoped  to  do,  giving  to  you,  not 
asking.  Let  me  finish,  please.  The  Emperor  has 
been  generous  to  me,  however  little  so  to  you, 
and  I  am  modestly  rich  in  my  own  right.  Why, 
the  pension  accompanying  the  star  and  order 
he  gave  me  after  that  attempt  to  kill  him,  that 
alone  is  more  than  my  solitary  life  requires.  My 
tastes  are  simple — that  automobile  about  which 
you  laugh  at  me  is  not  as  you  think.  It  is  my 
pride  to  have  regained  my  independence,  mon- 
seigneur;  to  be  able  to  come  to  you,  free,  and 
offer  to  do  your  secretary's  work,  Vasili's,  what 
you  choose,  but  to  do  it  as  a  service  of  love. 
Long  ago,  on  the  Nadeja,  I  lent  myself  to  aid 
your  purpose,  to  make  it  mine.  And  now  you 
have  carried  it  through ;  next  week  the  Emperor 
will  be  crowned.  Now  I  claim  the  right  to  re- 
turn to  you ;  the  work  is  done." 

"John—" 

"You  can  not  refuse  me  that,"  he  cried. 
229 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

"You  have  taken  my  life  and  made  it  center 
around  you,  now  you  can  not  bid  me  tear  that 
core  out  and  go  on." 

As  on  their  first  night  together,  Stanief 
stretched  his  hand  across  the  table  for  his  com- 
panion's clasp. 

"No,"  he  answered  lovingly,  "we  can  not  go 
on  without  each  other.  If  you  will  stay  with  a 
sinking  ship,  come;  I  am  selfish  enough  to  let 
you.  But  the  charge  I  gave  you  is  not  finished, 
nor  my  purpose  yet  fulfilled.  You  must  go 
back  until  next  week  is  over." 

"The  Emperor — "  Allard  began  incredulously. 

"The  Emperor  needs  you  more  than  ever  be- 
fore. There  are  too  many  people  who  cling  to 
the  peace  of  the  last  years,  who  dread  change 
and  would  force  me  upon  the  throne  at  any  cost. 
The  Empire — not  Adrian's  court — the  vast  mid- 
dle class,  the  merchants,  the  quiet,  staid  aris- 
tocracy, the  very  peasants,  want  all  to  continue 
as  it  is.  If  I  were  still  to  govern  with  the  Em- 
peror they  would  rest  content,  but  they  see  it 
230 


AT   THE    GATES    OF    CHANGE 

will  not  be  so.  They  fear  Adrian,  they  know  and 
detest  Dalmorov  and  the  party  he  represents. 
And  they  are  not  careful  in  their  methods  of  ob- 
taining what  they  want.  John,  if  you  knew  the 
veiled  insinuations,  the  bold  offers,  the  tempters 
who  pursue  me  night  and  day ;  if  you  knew  how 
they  watch  for  the  hours  when  Adrian  has  been 
most  hard,  how  they  skilfully  touch  my  pride, 
my  patriotism,  my  resentment  and  knowledge  of 
injustice,  if  you  lived  my  life  for  twenty-four 
hours,  then  you  might  speak  of  weariness.  But 
the  worst — " 

Aghast,  Allard  stared  at  him,  deep  after  deep 
of  the  inner  court  opening  before  his  dizzy  gaze. 

"The  worst?"  he  repeated  mechanically. 

The  hand  on  the  table  clenched;  all  the  in- 
herited lawlessness  and  ambition  of  a  royal  line 
blazed  up  in  Staniefs  darkly  brilliant  eyes. 

"I  want  it,"  he  said  deliberately.   "I  want  to 

rule  this  country,  to  toss  Dalmorov  from  my 

path,  to  stamp  out  the  satisfied  triumph  from 

these  time-serving  faces  about  me.    I  want  to 

231 


THE    GAME   AND   THE    CANDLE 

play  this  splendid  game  and  remain  chief  in  the 
battles  of  diplomacy  and  statecraft.  I  want  my 
wife  to  continue  in  the  life  to  which  she  was  born. 
And  I  know  the  power  to  accomplish  all  this  lies 
ready  at  my  hand;  I  have  only  to  take.  Oh,  I 
am  no  Galahad  or  Cincinnatus,  no  patient  de- 
spiser  of  earthly  good ;  no  longer  even  the  ideal- 
ist who  spun  his  dreams  on  the  Nadeja.  I  have 
tasted  of  a  dangerous  fountain,  and  I  shall  thirst 
for  its  purple-tinted  water  all  the  rest  of  my 
time.  I  have  no  bent,  no  inclination,  for  obscure 
inactivity." 

"Yet?"  Allard  wondered. 

Stanief  leaned  back  and  idly  picked  up  the 
pen  on  his  desk. 

"Yet  Adrian's  coronation  takes  place  next 
week,  exactly.  Are  we  sufficiently  inconsistent, 
we  others  ?  And  I  will  pass  my  life  in  a  castle  of 
the  north,  or  wandering  over  Europe.  I  only 
spoke  to  show  you  that  my  days  are  not  serene 
either,  and  why  you  must  go  back  to  keep  your 
guard  of  honor  with  Adrian.  I  believe  he  is  safe ; 
282 


AT    THE    GATES    OF    CHANGE 

the  secret  police  watch  him  ceaselessly  and  re- 
port to  me.  But  I  want  you  near  him." 

"I  will  go  back  now,"  assented  Allard,  utterly 
subdued.  "You  are  right,  I  knew  nothing  of 
this.  I  owe  so  much  to  him,  as  well  as  to  you.  I 
wish  I  were  a  wiser  guardian;  I — that  automo- 
bile—" 

"Your  automobile !  My  dear  John,  what  has 
it  to  do  with  the  matter?  Or  do  you  mean  that 
Adrian  gave  it  to  you?  I  never  knew  that." 

"Yes,  he  gave  it  to  me,"  Allard  smiled  and 
frowned  together.  "It  is  nothing,  of  course. 
But  I  will  not  leave  him  again  unless  you  wish 
or  he  compels." 

"Thank  you.  You  are  going  direct  to  the 
palace?" 

"Yes  ;  he  sent  me  with  a  letter  to  madame." 

Stanief  winced,  sighing.  One  trial  he  had  not 
told  Allard,  yet  exile  would  have  been  a  light 
thing  to  bear  if  the  fearless  child  Irfa  had  still 
walked  with  him. 

"Wait  and  I  will  go  with  you,"  he  offered.  "I 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

must  have  the  Emperor's  approval  of  these  plans 
for  next  week.  Have  you  delivered  madame's 
letter?" 

"Not  yet,  monseigneur.  I  am  afraid  I  forgot 
it." 

"Give  it  to  me  and  I  will  leave  it  with  her  in 
passing.  I  have  not  seen  her  to-day." 

It  had  come  to  that  point ;  the  cold  and  self- 
contained  Stanief  sought  a  pretext  in  these  days 
to  see  the  delicate  face  he  loved.  The  Gentle 
Princess  was  hurting  him  as  no  one  else  could. 

Up  in  her  cream-and-azure  boudoir,  Iria  was 
alone  when  Stanief  entered.  She  was  bending 
over  a  table  heaped  with  water-lilies  and  purple 
Florentine  irises  from  the  conservatory,  herself 
quite  radiant  with  their  reflected  brightness  as 
she  lifted  the  heavy  petals  and  breathed  their 
fragrance.  Her  back  to  the  door,  she  did  not 
turn  at  once  to  see  who  came  unannounced. 

"Look,  Marya,"  she  called  gladly  and  sweetly. 
"Come  here ;  were  ever  things  so  lovely  ?  So  the 
irises  grew  at  home,  knee-deep  in  the  clear  pools, 
234 


AT   THE    GATES   OF    CHANGE 

like  enchanted  princes.  And  the  lilies, — over 
them  the  dragon-flies  hovered  all  day  and  be- 
tween their  stems  the  goldfish  slept  and  played." 

She  moved  with  the  last  word  and  saw  Stanief ; 
a  tall,  soldierly  presence  in  the  filagree  room. 

"Oh,"  she  exclaimed  faintly,  "pardon,  mon- 
seigneur !" 

"For  what?"  he  demanded.  "It  is  I  who 
should  apologize  for  disturbing  you  here.  I  have 
a  letter  from  the  Emperor  for  you." 

"Thank  you,  monseigneur,"  she  murmured, 
and  accepted  the  massive  envelop  to  lay  it  list- 
lessly on  the  table. 

Stanief  looked  at  her.  Like  one  of  her  own 
slim  flowers  she  stood,  her  shimmering  white 
morning  dress  leaving  her  round  throat  and 
arms  bare.  The  full  soft  hair  was  caught  in  a 
great  coil  low  on  her  neck,  she  wore  no  jewel  ex- 
cept the  slender  gold  chain  and  cross  gleaming 
through  the  lace  at  her  bosom. 

"Why  are  you  afraid  of  me?"  he  asked  ab- 
ruptly. "Why  do  you  shrink  from  me  as  if  my 
235 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

touch  were  pain?  What  has  come  between  us, 
Iria?" 

"Nothing,  monseigneur,"  her  fingers  inter- 
laced in  feverish  nervousness. 

"Nothing?  Iria,  Iria,  will  you  tell  me  now  to 
take  you  with  me  into  my  exile  ?" 

"Yes,  monseigneur,"  came  the  low  reply,  but 
her  head  drooped. 

"And  you  think  I  would  accept  the  sacrifice? 
You  think — "  He  checked  himself  with  a  violent 
effort. 

"I  am  sorry,"  she  responded  confusedly.  "I — 
I  have  not  changed." 

"Then  it  is  I?" 

"No,  no ;  please  let  me  go,  monseigneur." 

"It  is  I  who  will  go,"  he  answered,  shaken  out 
of  self-mastery  for  once.  "Iria,  I  do  not  know 
who  awakened  you,  who  showed  you  the  truth, 
perhaps  it  was  my  kindly  cousin.  But  it  is  clear 
that  you  have  seen.  Iria,  was  your  trust  also  so 
weak  that  it  went  down  before  a  breath?  Be- 
cause I  loved  you,  must  you  shrink  from  me? 
236 


AT   THE    GATES   OF    CHANGE 

Child,  I  loved  you  the  first  day  that  you  gave 
me  your  shy  friendship,  I  loved  you  all  the 
months  afterward,  and  was  my  care  of  you  less 
careful  for  that?  If  you  could  have  continued 
in  your  ignorance,  would  I  have  failed  you?" 

Before  his  passion  and  grief  she  retreated, 
mute,  colorless,  her  dazed  eyes  upon  him. 

"You!"  she  gasped,  "You — "  then  suddenly 
turned  and  hid  her  face  among  the  heaped 
flowers. 

"I  did  not  hope  that  you  could  love  me;  I 
knew  better  than  that,"  he  said.  "But  I  did  hope 
that  you  would  trust  me.  I  thought  I  had  earned 
that  much,  Iria.  Let  my  fancies  go ;  I  will  undo 
this  as  far  as  I  may.  You  shall  stay  in  the  capi- 
tal or  go  to  your  own  home,  whatever  you 
choose.  Only  this  week  remains,  and  I  lay  down 
both  my  charges.  Hush,  and  do  not  grieve ;  this 
is  no  fault  of  yours." 

She  was  sobbing  helplessly,  her  golden  head 
among  the  white  and  purple  blossoms.  He  drew 
a  quick  breath  and  stood  for  a  moment,  strug- 
237 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

gling  to  regather  around  him  the  poor  tattered 
cloak  of  reserve.  But  it  was  a  relief  to  him  that 
she  could  not  see  his  expression  when  he  crossed 
to  her  side. 

"Forgive  me,"  he  said  sadly.  "I  am  not  very 
wise  to-day,  or  very  kind,  I  am  afraid.  I  have 
loved  you;  yes,  and  I  loved  Adrian  during  our 
quiet  years.  Some  flaw  in  me  there  must  be,  that 
neither  of  you  could  give  me  the  simple  gift  of 
trust.  We  will  speak  of  this  no  more ;  somehow 
I  will  find  a  way  for  you.  *A  Stanief  guards  his 
own.' " 

His  voice  shook  on  the  sentiment  he  would 
have  spoken  lightly;  stooping  with  the  fierce- 
ness of  pain  suppressed,  he  touched  his  lips  to 
her  bright  hair. 

"You,"  panted  Irfa,  as  the  door  closed.  "You, 
monseigneur !" 

He  had  gone ;  only  the  silver-fringed  curtain 
still  swayed  to  tell  of  his  passage,  the  frail, 
feminine  atmosphere  of  the  place  still  quivered 
from  the  presence  of  a  dominant  energy. 


AT   THE    GATES    OF    CHANGE 

Down  in  the  open  carriage — a  massively 
luxurious  vehicle  with  the  imperial  arms  en- 
ameled upon  the  door — Allard  waited  for  Stan- 
ief  a  long  time.  The  Emperor,  just  returning 
from  a  drive  and  apparently  in  haste  to  have 
his  note  reach  Iria,  had  sent  the  nearest  mes- 
senger in  his  own  carriage. 

"Do  you  know  what  one  might  imagine,  see- 
ing this  carriage  here  and  you  waiting  in  it?" 
playfully  demanded  Vasili,  as  he  lounged 
against  the  wheel. 

"What?" 

"That  the  Emperor  was  paying  a  visit  to  his 
cousin." 

"I  wish  he  were,"  Allard  sighed  unguardedly. 

"7  never  meddle  with  politics;  pas  si  bete. 
But  I  wish  I  were  the  Emperor's  favorite  just 
now,  as  you  are.  There  will  be  changes  soon, 
hein?" 

"I  suppose  so.  No  one  can  tell." 

"No,  of  course  not.    Do  you  know,  I  would 
like  to  be  off  in  the  Nadeja  next  week." 
239 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

"The  Regent  is  coming,"  Allard  warned, 
gladly  seizing  an  escape  from  the  conversation. 

Vasili  swung  around  and  clicked  his  heels  to- 
gether, saluting  stiffly.  Allard  stepped  down 
from  the  carriage. 

"You  need  not  come,  Vasili,"  Stanief  re- 
marked, as  he  took  his  seat.  "Monsieur  Allard 
will  accompany  me.  Come,  John ;  we  are  late." 

The  horses  sprang  forward. 

The  drive  through  the  streets,  gay  with  prep- 
arations for  the  coronation  and  crowded  with 
busy  people,  was  attended  by  the  manifestations 
grown  familiar.  More  eager  way  was  made  for 
Stanief  than  for  the  Emperor  himself;  the 
glances  which  followed  him  were  grateful  and 
keenly  anxious.  Once  a  girl  in  a  passing  farm- 
er's cart  rose  to  toss  into  the  carriage  a  sheaf 
of  wildflowers. 

"Little  Father  of  the  People !"  she  called  in 
the  soft,  guttural  vernacular. 

It  was  a  title  given  only  to  sovereigns ;  Stan- 
ief flushed  and  frowned  together. 
240 


AT    THE    GATES    OF    CHANGE 

"That  will  not  do,"  he  commented  drily,  lean- 
ing back  in  the  shadow  of  the  victoria  top. 

"You  have  permitted  them  to  think,  and  they 
give  you  their  verdict,"  Allard  answered. 

The  carriage  turned  from  the  great  square 
to  an  avenue  leading  toward  the  palace.  Densely 
packed  with  people,  there  was  a  brief  pause  be- 
fore the  way  could  be  cleared.  Noting  a  change 
in  the  atmosphere,  a  chill  and  more  nervous 
haste,  Allard  lifted  his  eyes  to  his  companion. 

"This  carriage,  and  with  you  in  the  shadow, 
monseigneur,"  he  observed, — "they  think  it  is 
the  Emperor  who  passes." 

The  reply  was  not  made  by  Stanief.  Straight 
and  surely  aimed,  a  missile  hurtled  from  an 
upper  window  in  one  of  the  buildings  and  fell 
on  the  cushions  beside  him. 

"For  peace  and  freedom!"  shrieked  a  man, 
leaning  from  the  window  in  half-insane  excite- 
ment and  waving  his  arms  above  his  head.  "No 
Adrian — for  the  Emperor  Feodor !" 

The  crowd  grew  white  with  upturned  faces; 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

then,  comprehending,  broke  into  tumult  and 
panic.  Screaming,  frantic,  one  and  all  turned 
to  fly  from  the  vicinity  of  the  carriage.  Allard 
snatched  the  bomb  from  the  seat  and  rose  to 
fling  it  from  him,  but  even  as  he  checked  him- 
self, Stanief  seized  his  arm. 

"Not  into  the  people,  John,"  he  ordered 
sharply.  "Better  keep  it  here  than  that." 

"Go,  you!"  Allard  implored,  turning  the 
smoking  object  in  his  hands  for  examination. 
"Go,  monseigneur !" 

Above  the  uproar  of  the  fighting,  shrieking 
mob  rose  the  agonized  cry  of  the  man  at  the  win- 
dow as  he  saw  the  Regent's  face : 

"You !  You !  The  fuse,  pull  the  fuse !" 

"Fuse?"  echoed  Allard,  catching  at  a  small 
hanging  thread  of  cotton.  "Monseigneur,  go, 
go !  I  can  handle  this — " 

The  cotton  broke  off  short;  a  steady  hissing 
warned  them  that  it  still  burned  inside. 

"Give  it  here,"  Stanief  commanded  collect- 
edly. "Get  your  penknife." 


AT   THE    GATES   OF    CHANGE 

The  two  men  bent  above  the  oval,  gray  mes- 
senger of  hate  and  death.  Around  them  raged 
indescribable  disorder;  the  very  coachman  and 
footmen  had  fled  from  the  carriage. 

"If  you  would  go!"  Allard  panted,  his  voice 
tense. 

"Bah,"  said  Stanief,  and  forced  the  bomb 
from  him. 

An  ominous  snapping  came  from  within. 
Stanief's  strong  white  fingers  fitted  themselves 
to  the  crack  and  with  a  superb  effort  he  twisted 
the  thing  in  half. 

"Ah!"  gasped  Allard,  blinded,  as  a  great 
cloud  of  smoke  rushed  forth. 

Stanief  drew  out  the  fuse  as  it  reached  the 
end,  and  flung  it  into  the  street. 

"Lighted  too  late,"  he  explained.  "Our  ter- 
rorists are  clumsy." 

"They  meant  it  for  Adrian,"  he  answered. 
"You  were  right." 

They  found  each  other's  hands  through  the 
choking  fumes ;  Allard's  fingers  scorched  by  the 
£43 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

guncotton,  StaniePs  bruised  and  bleeding  from 
the  force  used  to  open  the  machine. 

As  the  smoke  cleared  they  looked  around, 
then  back  at  each  other.  They  were  alone  in  a 
deserted  street.  Distant  cries,  increasing  tumult, 
announced  the  spreading  panic.  Three  blocks 
away  flashed  the  green-and-gold  of  the  palace 
guards  as  they  charged  to  the  scene,  over  pave- 
ments littered  with  fallen  garments,  the  contents 
of  overturned  vehicles,  and  the  vehicles  them- 
selves. The  well-trained  horses  of  the  royal 
carriage  had  stood  still,  accustomed  to  public 
demonstrations  of  a  different  nature  but  similar 
violence. 

"Really,"  Allard  exclaimed,  on  the  verge  of 
laughter.  "Really,  monseigneur — " 

"There  has  been  some  excitement,"  Stanief  as- 
sented. "Will  you  go  on  to  the  palace  and  ex- 
plain to  the  Emperor?  I  am  going  back  to  reas- 
sure madame." 

Their  attendants  were  creeping  shamefacedly 
back  to  their  posts,  seeing  all  was  over.  The 
244 


AT   THE    GATES    OF    CHANGE 

line  of  soldiers  swept  down  upon  theicarriage,  a 
very  pale  officer  in  command. 

"I  will  do,"  said  Allard,  "anything  you  want." 

If  the  uproar  had  been  great  at  the  attack, 
it  trebled  as  the  furious  crowd  surged  back  in 
search  of  the  assailant.  The  guards  were  obliged 
to  close  around  the  Regent  to  shield  him  from 
the  frenzied  and  hysterical  joy  of  the  people  at 
his  safety.  The  slow  return  to  his  home  was  one 
continuous  ovation,  almost  the  cheering  masses 
prevented  advance. 

Long  before  Stanief  reached  his  goal,  Allard 
had  arrived  at  the  palace.  No  less  excitement 
reigned  there.  Without  need  of  explanation,  Al- 
lard was  hurried  to  the  Emperor,  questioned  and 
congratulated  on  every  side. 

He  met  Adrian  in  the  hall,  and  at  sight  of  his 
messenger,  blackened  with  smoke,  hatless,  still 
pale  with  the  strain  of  those  perilous  moments, 
the  Emperor  sprang  forward  and  caught  his 
arm. 

"Feodor?"  he  cried  fiercely,  his  voice  ringing 
245 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

through  the  lofty  corridors.  "Speak,  speak; 
where  is  Feodor  ?" 

"Sire,  he  has  returned  to  madame  the  Grand 
Duchess." 

"Safe?  You  are  not  deceiving  me,  he  is  safe?" 

"He  is  unhurt ;  he  destroyed  the  bomb  before 
it  exploded,"  Allard  explained  incoherently. 
"His  hands  are  cut,  no  more." 

Adrian  dropped  the  other's  arm  and  drew 
back;  for  hours  Allard  felt  the  bruise  of  that 
feverish  grasp. 

"To  madame,"  he  repeated. 

"Sire,  he  ordered  me  to  bring  an  account  of 
the  affair  to  your  Imperial  Majesty.  He  can  be 
sent  for,"  Allard  suggested  eagerly,  catching 
a  daring  hope  from  the  apparent  emotion. 

Adrian  favored  him  with  a  saber-keen  glance. 

"Why  should  I  wish  to  see  him  ?"  he  demanded 
harshly.  "If  he  is  uninjured,  very  good ;  we  will 
send  our  congratulations.  You  are  exhausted, 
Monsieur  Allard;  go  to  your  apartments  and 
recover  yourself.  Alisof,"  he  turned  upon  the 
246 


AT   THE    GATES   OF    CHANGE 

group  of  listeners,  "you  will  inform  the  chief 
of  police  that  I  shall  replace  him  next  week  if  he 
completes  this  exhibition  of  inefficiency  by  let- 
ting the  assassin  escape.  And  when  he  captures 
the  man,  he  will  report  to  me,  not  to  the  Re- 
gent." 

Scarlet  enough  now  under  the  streaks  of 
grime,  Allard  moved  aside  to  let  him  pass.  All 
his  self-control  could  not  smother  the  blazing 
indignation  in  his  gray  eyes.  But  Adrian 
brushed  past  without  regarding  him,  and  went 
alone  into  the  room  beyond. 


247 


.CHAPTER  XVI 

FIRE    LILIES 

THROUGH  the  uproar,  between  the  crowd- 
ing people,  Stanief  at  last  gained  his  own 
hall  and  partly  quelled  the  confusion  by  his 
mere  presence. 

"Tell  madame  that  I  have  returned  and  will 
visit  her  as  soon  as  this  smoke  is  removed,"  was 
his  first  direction  on  setting  foot  upon  the  steps. 

But  when  he  reached  the  head  of  the  great 
staircase  a  white  figure  flashed  down  the  hall  to 
meet  him. 

"Monseigneur,  monseigneur,"  moaned  the 
silver  voice.  Before  all  the  household,  and  Ad- 
rian's guards,  Iria  clutched  Stanief's  stained 
and  blackened  coat  with  small,  eager  hands  and 
fainted  on  his  breast. 

"Stand  back!"  the  master  commanded  as  a 
score  of  dismayed  attendants  rushed  forward 
248 


FIRE    LILIES 

and  the  Countess  Marya  sprang  toward  her 
mistress.  And  lifting  her  easily  in  his  arms,  he 
carried  her  back  to  the  cream-tinted  boudoir  left 
so  shortly  before  and  so  nearly  left  for  ever. 

On  the  way  the  gold-and-topaz  eyes  opened, 
but  she  did  not  protest  or  move  until  Stanief  set 
her  down. 

"John  is  safe,"  he  said,  with  a  tenderness 
that  had  long  passed  beyond  jealousy.  "Did 
they  not  tell  you,  dear?" 

Iria  caught  the  chair  beside  her. 

"You,"  she  panted.  "They  said  you  were 
hurt.  Oh,  your  hands — " 

"It  is  nothing." 

"It  is,  to  me.  I  thought  you  would  die  and 
never  know  that  I  loved  you  so,  monseigneur." 

"Iria !"  he  cried. 

She  held  out  her  hands  to  him  with  passionate 
innocence  and  grief,  the  loose  sleeves  falling 
back  to  her  shoulders  with  the  gesture. 

"I  do,  I  do.    Never  say  those  things  to  me 
again,  never  leave  me  like  that." 
249 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

Dazzled,  incredulous,  he  swept  her  to  him, 
almost  rough  in  his  unbearable  doubt  and  joy. 

"And  John  ?    What  of  John  ?" 

"You  knew—" 

"Knew?  Child,  you  betrayed  yourself  the  first 
time  you  spoke  of  him,  the  first  time  I  saw  you 
together.  Why  should  I  blame  you  for  no  fault 
of  yours?  How  could  I  blame  him,  who  never 
even  guessed  your  thought?  I  never  wondered 
at  your  choice ;  only,  give  me  the  truth  now." 

"But  I  love  you,"  she  said.  "Monsieur  Al- 
lard ;  I  never  thought  of  him  like  that  after  our 
wedding-day.  You  were  so  calm,  so  strong,  I 
just  rested  with  you  and  found  no  room  for  any 
other.  On  the  voyage  from  Spain,  I  imagined 
somehow  that  Monsieur  Allard  was  you,  that 
you  had  come  secretly  to  meet  me,  and  so  I  al- 
most taught  myself  to  care  for  him.  No  more 
than  that  it  was." 

Closer  he  held  her,  searching  the  face  of  rose- 
and-pearl  with  his  splendid,  lonely  eyes. 

"Love  of  mine,  make  no  mistake.  I  want  you ; 
250 


FIRE   LILIES 

my  dear,  I  have  wanted  you  so  bitterly  long, 
and  you  have  shrunk  from  me.  You  care  now, 
Iria?" 

"I  have  always  cared,  only  I  never  knew  un- 
til last  year.  Since  then  I  have  hidden  from 
you  because  I  feared  you  would  see;  because  I 
never  dreamed  you  cared." 

With  a  tinkling  crash  the  silver  pin  slipped 
from  her  hair,  like  a  golden  serpent  the  heavy 
coil  unwound  and  fell  over  his  arm,  draping 
them  both  with  rippling  silk  as  he  stooped  to 
kiss  her  quivering  lips. 

After  a  moment  she  stirred  slightly,  her  head 
still  on  his  arm  as  she  looked  up. 

"Now  you  will  take  me  with  you?"  she 
breathed,  in  delicious  content.  "Now  you  will 
not  leave  me  with  the  Emperor,  Feodor?" 

For  the  first  time  in  many  weeks  Stanief 
laughed,  reveling  in  their  knit  gaze. 

"Poor  Adrian !  How  can  he  punish  his  rebel- 
lious Regent,  since  he  must  leave  me  you?  In  a 
garden  of  fire  my  lily  has  opened.  Where  shall 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

we  go,  Iria,  on  our  golden  journey?  To  jour 
perfumed  South?" 

"May  I  choose?" 

<4You  may  command." 

"Then  take  me  to  your  own  old  castle  in  the 
hills.  Shall  it  not  be  our  home?" 

"Hush,  you  have  spoken  a  word  I  never  knew ; 
let  me  listen  to  it  for  a  moment." 

Outside  the  city  roared  unheeded,  unheard. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

AN   ARABIAN    NIGHT 

THE  Emperor's  congratulations  and  formal 
inquiries  duly  arrived,  borne  by  a  glitter- 
ing officer  who  was  so  impressed  by  the  coldness 
of  the  message  intrusted  to  him  that  he  scarcely 
raised  his  eyes  during  its  delivery.  He  had  the 
misfortune  to  be  attached  to  the  Regent. 

But  Stanief  received  all  unmoved.  A  clear 
scarlet  burned  in  his  dark  cheek,  his  drowsy  eyes 
glowed  with  some  inward  fire.  He  had  just  left 
the  Grand  Duchess  and  still  carried  traces  of 
the  recent  accident,  but  he  smiled  in  utter  tran- 
quillity as  he  listened,  and  gave  his  reply.  It  was 
too  unaccountable ;  actually  dismayed  by  the  in- 
different composure,  the  officer  retired,  and 
found  himself  stammering  again  when  he  re- 
peated the  answering  message  to  the  Emperor. 

Adrian  was  at  dinner,  or  rather  had  just  con- 
253 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

eluded,  when  he  found  time  to  receive  the  envoy ; 
and  he  set  down  his  glass  to  study  this  embar- 
rassment in  a  courtier  of  twenty  years'  stand- 
ing. He  was  always  cynically  interested  in  such 
situations. 

"What  else  did  the  Grand  Duke  say?"  he 
demanded. 

"Sire,  nothing  was  said  except  that  which  I 
have  had  the  honor  to  report  to  your  Imperial 
Majesty." 

"Nothing  to  you?" 

"Nothing,  sire." 

Adrian  made  no  sign,  yet  the  unfortunate 
equery  was  conscious  that  he  was  not  believed. 

"My  cousin  appeared  well?"  came  the  inquiry. 

"Perfectly  well,  sire.   Remarkably  so." 

"I  am  enchanted  to  hear  it;  he  has  need  of 
steady  nerves.  That  will  do." 

He  pushed  away  the  glass  and  rose,  his 
glance  encountering  that  of  Allard  near  him. 

"You  almost  hate  me  to-night,  Allard?"  he 
questioned  softly. 


Allard,  in  evening  dress,  the  tiny  jeweled  star 
of  honor  flashing  on  his  coat,  was  very  different 
in  appearance  from  the  smoke-grimed  gentle- 
man of  noon,  but  his  gray  eyes  met  Adrian's  in 
the  same  indignation  with  which  they  had  shone 
from  beneath  the  stains  of  the  explosion. 

"Almost,  sire,"  he  acknowledged. 

Staggered  by  the  unexpected  frankness,  Ad- 
rian nearly  lost  his  self-possession  for  the  first 
time  in  his  seventeen  years.  But  he  recovered 
immediately. 

"Thanks  for  the  'almost',"  he  said  with  non- 
chalance. "Just  bring  my  cloak ;  I  want  you  to 
go  with  me." 

Amazed  at  himself,  Allard  obeyed,  humiliat- 
ingly  aware  that  he  had  been  scarcely  decorous 
and  certainly  unwise. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sire,"  he  said  seriously, 
as  he  offered  the  cloak. 

Adrian  surveyed  him  calmly. 

"Was  it  true?"  he  queried. 

In  spite  of  himself  Allard  smiled. 
255 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

"Almost,  sire,"  he  confessed. 

''Truth  is  a  virtue,  at  least  theoretically,  and 
needs  no  apology.  Moreover,  I  challenged  you. 
Come." 

And  Allard  followed. 

It  was,  of  course,  impossible  to  question  the 
Emperor,  but  Allard's  anxiety  nearly  betrayed 
him  into  the  indiscretion  as  Adrian  slipped  on 
the  cloak  and  led  the  way  to  a  small  private  salon 
from  which  a  staircase  permitted  reaching  the 
street  unobserved.  For,  in  common  with  Peter 
the  Great  and  Harun-al-Rashid,  Adrian  occa- 
sionally indulged  in  rambles  about  his  capital, 
incognito,  and  with  Allard  for  sole  companion. 
It  was  a  habit  only  a  year  old,  of  which  even  the 
omniscient  Stanief  was  ignorant.  The  Emperor 
had  made  it  a  point  of  honor  with  his  confidant 
to  guard  the  secret  absolutely ;  and  many  a  bad 
hour  had  Allard  passed  in  consequence.  No  one 
suspected  the  true  reason  why  the  American  had 
bought  a  compact,  exquisite  Italian  automobile 
during  the  summer  before ;  or  guessed  the  iden- 
256 


AN    ARABIAN    NIGHT 

tity  of  the  slim  young  chauffeur,  masked  and 
wearing  the  usual  shapeless  coat,  who  drove  the 
machine  through  the  streets  at  dusk  or  later. 
But  it  was  a  current  tale  for  laughter  in  the 
clubs  that  Monsieur  Allard  had  been  arrested 
four  times  for  overspeeding  his  car  and  each 
time  had  paid  his  fine  without  a  murmur,  him- 
self assuming  the  blame  and  exonerating  his 
chauffeur. 

Perhaps,  being  young  himself,  Allard  also 
had  enjoyed  the  variety  and  slight  peril  of  these 
excursions.  But  then  the  city  had  lain  quiet 
under  the  Regent's  strong  hand,  while  now — 

For  once  he  was  pleased  to  see  Dalmorov,  who 
rose  at  their  entrance  into  the  salon.  At  least 
his  presence  proved  that  nothing  wholly  secret 
was  intended. 

"The  carriage  is  ready,  Baron?"  Adrian 
asked,  drawing  on  his  gloves  with  his  leisurely 
decision  of  movement. 

"It  waits  at  the  lower  door,  sire." 

"Very  good.   Are  you  ready,  Allard?" 
257 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

"Sire,  I  did  not  understand — " 

"Well,  you  have  always  a  coat  here,  I  think." 

That  was  true,  and  taking  a  key  from  his 
waistcoat  pocket  Allard  silently  opened  the 
wardrobe  that  held  their  apparel  for  the  motor 
trips.  It  was  Adrian's  affair,  not  his,  if  the  pro- 
ceeding awakened  Dalmorov's  ever-active  curi- 
osity. 

However,  the  baron's  attention  was  fixed  on 
the  master,  not  the  man ;  he  was  watching  Adrian 
with  intent  and  crafty  eagerness.  He  barely 
glanced  at  Allard  when  he  came  back  ready  to 
go  out. 

"I  also  may  have  the  honor  of  accompanying 
your  Imperial  Majesty?"  he  urged. 

"No,"  Adrian  returned. 

"Sire—" 

"No,  Dalmorov.    Come,  Allard." 

But  Allard  stood  still. 

"Sire,  dare  I  ask  where?"  he  said,  with  firm 
respect. 

"To  drive  to  the  cathedral  and  observe  the 
#58 


AN    ARABIAN    NIGHT 

preparations  for  next  week,"  was  the  dry  ex- 
planation. 

"Pardon  me  yet  again;  without  escort?" 

"Yes." 

"Perhaps  Monsieur  Allard  disapproves,"  sug- 
gested Dalmorov  sarcastically. 

"I  do,"  Allard  declared,  taking  a  step  toward 
Adrian  and  throwing  back  his  head  obstinately. 
"It  is  not  fit  for  the  Emperor  to  go  on  the 
streets  to-night.  Sire,  I  have  talked  with  Cap- 
tain Alisov  of  the  guards  and  with  Zaliski  of 
the  secret  police,  and  it  is  a  seething  frenzy  of 
excitement  out  there.  This  morning's  attack  has 
brought  to  the  surface  the  most  dangerous  ele- 
ments in  the  capital.  To-morrow  all  may  be 
under  control,  but  to-night  it  is  not  fit." 

"Your  affectionate  solicitude  overwhelms  me, 
Allard,"  Adrian  retorted. 

The  irony  and  the  allusion  brought  Allard's 
color,  but  he  maintained  his  position. 

"Sire,  I  state  a  fact.   There  is  real  and  seri- 
ous danger  in  such  a  drive  this  evening.   I  beg 
259 


you  to  consider  seriously  the  event  occurring  at 
noon." 

"I  am  not  Feodor;  the  attack  was  on  him. 
Let  him  keep  his  house  if  the  people  make  it 
necessary." 

This  of  the  adored  Regent,  for  whom  the 
whole  Empire  mourned  in  bitter  regret!  It  was 
too  much. 

"Sire,  the  attack  this  morning  was  intended 
for  you,"  Allard  flung  with  exasperated  blunt- 
ness.  "When  the  assailant  saw  the  Grand 
Duke,  he  shouted  directions  how  to  prevent  the 
explosion.  It  was  meant  for  you ;  all  the  court 
and  city  know  it." 

Adrian  stood  quite  still,  looking  from  one  to 
the  other.  Aghast  at  the  introduction  of  rude 
truth,  not  venturing  to  deny  what  could  be  veri- 
fied, Dalmorov  found  no  words. 

"For  me  ?"  the  Emperor  repeated. 

"Yes,  sire.  And  for  that  I  am  amazed  at 
Baron  Dalmorov's  wilh'ngness  that  you  should 
go  out." 

260 


AN    ARABIAN    NIGHT 

"It  is  safe,"  cried  Dalmorov  furiously.  "If 
you  are  afraid,  Monsieur  Allard,  of  your  own 
tales,  ask  to  be  left  here  and  let  me  attend  his 
Imperial  Majesty." 

If  the  statement  regarding  the  morning  had 
made  any  impression  on  Adrian,  he  shook  it  off 
as  soon  as  received. 

"So;  suppose  I  adopt  that  suggestion,  Al- 
lard?" he  remarked. 

"Sire,  if  you  go  out  I  shall  have  the  honor 
of  going  also." 

"If  I  choose  that  you  shall,"  the  Emperor  re- 
plied. 

His  eyes  afire,  Allard  touched  the  star  upon 
his  coat. 

"If  this  gives  me  any  claim  to  your  consider- 
ation, sire,  you  will  not  refuse  me  the  privilege 
of  accompanying  you.  I  did  not  speak  for  my- 
self, indeed  I  think  you  scarcely  believe  so;  I 
spoke  because  the  imperial  carriage  will  attract 
every  eye  and  recognition  will  be  certain.  There 
is  no  one  in  the  Empire  for  whom  the  worst  dis- 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

tricts  would  be  so  dangerous  as  the  brightest 
avenues  will  be  for  you,  sire." 

"You  invited  me  out  into  that,  Baron?"  was 
the  incredulous  question. 

"Because  it  is  safe,  sire.  Because  the  Regent 
keeps  tine  secret  police  on  guard  and  I  in- 
formed— "  he  checked  himself  abruptly. 

The  comprehension  that  rushed  to  Adrian's 
expression  was  far  from  pleased. 

"Oh ;  I  was  to  go  out  for  a  private  tour  of  ob- 
servation, surrounded  by  the  secret  police.  All 
my  compliments,  Dalmorov.  It  would  doubtless 
have  been  safe,  if  somewhat  misleading." 

"No,  sire—" 

"Let  me  explain,  Allard,"  he  went  on,  merci- 
lessly ignoring  the  baron's  dismay  at  the  ex- 
posure of  his  designs  before  Stanief's  friend. 
"Dalmorov  has  long  been  interested  in  showing 
me  the  spirit  of  the  capital  and  the  necessity 
for  various  changes  in  the  government.  And 
regarding  to-day  as  the  climax  of  dissatisfaction 
with  the  Regent's  methods,  he  proposed  a  quiet 
262 


AN    ARABIAN    NIGHT. 

drive  through  the  principal  streets  as  a  means 
of  gaging  the  public  feeling.  He  suggested 
that  I  would  find  such  a  trip  an  amusing  nov- 
elty." 

Remembering  their  many  expeditions  Allard's 
lips  twitched,  in  spite  of  his  indignant  disgust 
at  the  intrigues  which  were  dragging  Stanief 
down  with  myriad  nets  of  cobweb  spinning. 

"So  I  consented.  The  baron  felt  very  strongly 
the  conviction  that  the  people  themselves  would 
prove  to  me  the  necessity  of  a  different  mode 
of  rule  at  once.  Now  it  appears  that  his  zeal  de- 
ceived him,  and  we  can  very  well  wait  to  conclude 
affairs  with  dignity  next  week.  That  will  do, 
Dalmorov;  the  loving  care  that  made  you  sur- 
round me  with  secret  guards  might  also  have 
impelled  you  to  arrange  the  crowds  from  which 
I  was  to  gather  my  opinion.  I  shall  remain  at 
home  to-night.  Pray  say  so  to  the  police  with 
whom  you  and  the  Regent  annoy  me,  and  send 
the  carriage  back  to  the  stables." 

Dalmorov  waited  an  instant  for  the  storm,  to 
263 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

settle.  It  was  not  the  first  stinging  rebuke  he 
had  endured  from  the  young  autocrat,  but  he 
had  the  consolation  of  knowing  that  few  or  none 
of  the  court  escaped  the  same  infliction. 

"I  acted  from  the  purest  motives,"  he  began, 
with  profound  humility.  "If  my  too-great  anx- 
iety has  displeased  your  Imperial  Majesty,  I 
am  grieved  to  the  heart." 

Adrian  turned  to  him  again,  his  brow  quite 
clear. 

"Nothing  can  alter  my  regard  for  you,  my 
dear  baron,"  he  interrupted  kindly.  "Only,  do 
not  interfere  another  time.  Go,  do  my  errand ;  I 
shall  spend  this  evening  looking  over  some  plans 
with  Allard.  Good  night." 

There  was  a  pause  after  the  door  closed. 
Adrian  stood  slowly  removing  his  gloves,  which 
he  abstractedly  tossed  with  his  cloak  upon  the 
nearest  chair,  and  Allard  remained  waiting  pa- 
tiently. With  the  latter's  relief  at  the  decision 
was  mingled  a  vague  wonder  at  the  parting 
glance  he  had  received  from  Dalmorov.  Cer- 
264 


AN    ARABIAN    NIGHT 

tainly  worsted  in  the  late  passage  of  arms,  the 
baron  nevertheless  had  looked  at  his  antagonist 
with  malevolent  and  sinister  triumph,  a  dis- 
tinctly gratified  hate.  Was  it  because  he  divined 
that  the  American  suffered  with  Stanief's  hurt, 
and  would  go  with  him  into  voluntary  exile? 
There  seemed  no  other  solution,  yet — 

"Open  the  wardrobe  and  take  out  our  wraps," 
Adrian's  matter-of-fact  tones  broke  in  upon  the 
reverie.  "I  will  walk  to  the  garage  with  you, 
since  the  palace  is  watched,  instead  of  letting 
you  bring  the  car  here." 

"Sire!"  gasped  AJlard. 

"I  told  you  after  dinner  that  I  was  going  out ; 
I  never  change  my  mind.  Simply,  Dalmorov  is 
eliminated.  Make  haste,  please." 

In  despair  of  gaming  more,  Allard  obeyed, 
his  brief  satisfaction  ended.  Resignedly  he  as- 
sisted Adrian  into  his  long  coat  and  put  on  his 
own,  finding  what  comfort  he  could  in  the  fact 
that  they  had  taken  many  such  journeys  unde- 
tected. 

265 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

In  spite  of  his  injunction  to  make  haste,  the 
Emperor  did  not  take  at  once  his  cap  and  gaunt- 
lets but  remained  dangling  his  mask  by  its  rib- 
bons and  watching  his  companion's  preparations. 

"Allard,"  he  said,  "you  have  the  faculty  of 
finding  yourself  in  posts  of  danger  and  making 
yourself  famous.  It  is  an  art,  or  a  destiny,  that 
of  being  apropos.  Three  years  ago  you  acquired 
a  scar  and  a  star  in  protecting  me;  now  you 
have  repeated  the  exploit  for  Feodor.  Come 
here." 

Wondering,  Allard  turned. 

"Pardon,  sire,"  he  objected,  "I  did  nothing 
at  all  for  the  Grand  Duke.  He  himself  destroyed 
the  bomb ;  I  merely  looked  on  and  tried  to  help." 

"Ah?  Well,  the  Grand  Duke  and  the  rest  of 
the  capital  do  not  agree  with  you.  In  the  news- 
papers of  several  continents  you  are  figuring 
as  an  example  of  self-possessed  bravery  and  de- 
votion to  our  house;  probably  you  do  not  care, 
but  the  world  must  have  its  sensations.  And 
since  Feodor  can  not  give  the  tinsel  toys  that 
266 


AN   ARABIAN   NIGHT 

accompany  such  events,  affairs  are  left  in  my 
hands.  Bend  your  head — so." 

He  had  lifted  a  slender,  glittering  cordon  he 
himself  wore,  and  deftly  threw  it  around  the 
other's  neck  with  the  last  word.  Completely 
taken  by  surprise,  Allard  had  no  time  for  re- 
treat. 

"Sire,  I  should  prefer  not!"  he  exclaimed  de- 
cidedly, almost  angrily.  "I —  the  Grand  Duke  is 
my  friend;  such  things  have  no  place  between 
us.  Forgive  me,  and  allow  me  to  decline." 

"I  do  not  care  in  the  least  whether  you  prefer 
or  not,"  Adrian  replied,  with  the  most  perfect 
indifference.  "Or  whether  you  earned  it  or  not. 
It  is  simply  a  question  of  dignity.  This  is  ex- 
pected of  me,  and  I  refuse  to  have  it  said  that 
I  place  a  higher  valuation  on  my  own  life  than 
on  that  of  any  one  else.  You  will  accept,  and 
wear  the  order.  Of  course  you  do  not  prize  the 
plaything ;  neither  do  I.  Shall  we  go  ?" 

The  presentation  was  sufficiently  incongruous, 
indeed  the  whole  scene  was  typical  of  Adrian 
267 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

himself  in  its  mingling  of  medieval  and  ultra- 
modern :  the  two  men  in  their  half-opened  motor- 
ing coats,  and  beneath,  the  gleam  of  the  quaint, 
ancient,  gemmed  symbols.  And  the  Emperor 
added  the  final  touch  by  picking  up  the  hideous 
goggled  mask  and  putting  it  on. 

"Let  us  go,"  he  repeated. 

Allard  looked  down  at  the  pendant  Maltese 
cross  of  rubies  as  he  buttoned  his  coat,  then 
caught  up  gauntlets  and  cap,  and  went  to  open 
the  door. 

"Dare  I  offer  my  thanks  after  being  so  un- 
gracious, sire?"  he  asked  contritely. 

"If  you  choose.  But  I  would  rather  have  you 
remember  in  the  future  that  I  gave  you  the 
decoration  before  we  took  this  drive,  not  after." 

It  was  useless  to  endeavor  to  understand  Ad- 
rian's enigmatical  moods,  but  that  sentence  puz- 
zled Allard  for  many  hours,  whenever  it  re- 
curred to  him. 

The  walk  to  the  garage  was  accomplished  as 
often  before.  Several  times  they  passed  men: 
268 


AN    ARABIAN    NIGHT 

whom  Allard  recognized  as  belonging  to  the  se- 
cret service,  and  doubtless  passed  many  more 
whom  he  did  not  know,  all  letting  the  Emperor's 
favorite  go  by,  unquestioned,  with  his  com- 
panion. But  he  sighed  with  relief  when  they 
finally  reached  the  garage  and  he  stepped  into 
the  low,  silver-gray  machine  beside  his  pretended 
chauffeur.  A  man  flung  open  the  wide  doors, 
Adrian  bent  forward  with  truly  professional  ease 
and  nonchalance,  and  they  were  out  in  the  damp 
night  air. 

Through  the  humming,  fevered  city  they 
slipped,  merely  one  of  many  vehicles.  The 
streets  were  filled  with  walking  people,  without 
destination  or  object,  walking  only  from  con- 
suming restlessness  or  excitement.  The  murmur 
of  countless  voices  rose  above  the  throbbing  voice 
of  the  automobile  as  it  wound  in  and  out  among 
the  crowds.  On  every  corner  men  were  collected 
in  groups,  noisy  or  quiet  according  to  their 
class,  but  alike  in  grim  earnestness.  Policemen 
and  soldiers  were  everywhere;  spurred  by  the 


Emperor's  threat,  the  chief  of  police  was  sifting 
the  city  grain  by  grain  for  the  criminal  of  the 
morning. 

Not  to  the  cathedral  did  the  gray  car  take  its 
flight,  and  Allard's  amazement  reached  its  cul- 
mination when  they  halted  before  one  of  the 
capital's  main  hotels,  under  the  glaring  electric 
lights.  For  the  first  time  it  dawned  upon  him 
that  there  was  an  object  behind  the  apparent 
capriciousness  of  the  trip. 

"I  am  to  descend?"  he  hazarded,  as  his  com- 
panion did  not  speak. 

"No ;  you  are  to  wait  for  me." 

"I— you— " 

Adrian  deliberately  stepped  down  and  crossed 
the  bright,  crowded  sidewalk  into  the  lobby, 
deigning  no  explanation  whatever.  Utterly  stu- 
pefied, powerless  to  interfere,  Allard  watched 
him ;  saw  him  hand  a  card  to  the  attendant  who 
advanced,  then  follow  on  into  an  elevator  and 
disappear.  The  huge  hall  was  filled  with  chat- 
ting men  and  women,  many  of  them  moving  in 
270 


AN    ARABIAN    NIGHT 

the  court  or  diplomatic  circles ;  to  the  watcher's 
excited  fancy  it  seemed  impossible  that  they 
should  not  recognize  the  slight,  erect  figure; 
it  seemed  that  Adrian's  identity  cried  out  from 
every  leisurely  movement,  every  turn  of  the 
small  imperious  head.  But  presently  the  attend- 
ant returned  alone,  tranquil  and  smiling. 

It  was  fully  an  hour  that  Allard  waited,  each 
of  the  sixty  minutes  an  hour  in  itself.  Many  of 
those  passing  knew  and  bowed  to  him;  some 
came  over  to  congratulate  him  on  the  day's  es- 
cape or  to  ask  questions  concerning  it.  One  or 
two  ladies  paused  with  their  escorts  to  shower 
him  with  effusive  compliments.  Knowing  noth- 
ing of  Adrian's  intentions,  he  dared  not  even  as- 
sume the  partial  protection  of  his  mask.  The 
climax  arrived  with  the  vibrating  roar  of  an- 
other automobile,  which  fell  into  silence  behind 
him  as  Count  Rosal  came  placidly  around  to 
greet  his  friend. 

"You,  Allard,"  he  welcomed  languidly.    "I 
thought  you  were  on  duty  every  night." 
271 


"Not  this  evening;  the  Emperor,"  he  recol- 
lected the  fiction  told  Dalmorov,  "the  Emperor  is 
busy  with  some  plans." 

"I  have  been  with  the  Regent.  Do  you  believe 
it,  the  accident  has  made  him  look  years  younger. 
There  must  be  some  tonic  in  gunpowder  and 
sulphur  fumes.  But  you,  you  appear  rather 
upset  and  pale ;  or  is  it  these  abominable  lights  ?" 

"It  has  been  a  hard  day.  I  am  too  tired  to  be 
amusing,  Rosal." 

Rosal  put  his  foot  on  the  running-board  with- 
out the  least  sign  of  going  away. 

"Then  why  are  you  not  at  home?"  he  very 
naturally  inquired. 

"Because  I  had  an  errand ;  I  was  too  nervous 
to  rest." 

"Waiting  for  some  one?" 

"My  chauffeur." 

Rosal  settled  his  eye-glass,  extracted  a  case 
of  cigarettes  which  he  proceeded  to  offer  to  Al- 
lard,  and  himself  selected  one  of  the  contents. 

"Tell  me,"  he  said  confidentially,  "is  it  true 


AN    ARABIAN    NIGHT 

that  the  Emperor  took  scarcely  any  interest  in 
the  Regent's  escape?" 

"No."  Allard  watched  a  descending  elevator 
with  keen  anxiety ;  the  fear  that  Adrian  had  been 
decoyed  into  some  trap  was  becoming  unbearable, 
yet  it  was  impossible  to  go  in  search  of  him. 

"They  say  so  at  the  palace,  and  all  over  the 
city.  They  say  he  did  not  even  give  a  word  of 
praise  to  you." 

Aroused  to  justice  as  well  as  a  desire  to  shield 
Stanief,  Allard  withdrew  his  eyes  from  the  hotel 
entrance  to  regard  his  visitant. 

"Does  this  seem  so?"  he  demanded  irritably, 
and  pushed  aside  his  coat  to  permit  a  glimpse  of 
the  fiery  gem  he  wore. 

Rosal's  cigarette  fell  to  the  pavement;  the 
idle  patrician  was  well  skilled  in  matters  he- 
raldic. 

"That !"  he  cried,  dazzled  and  envious. 

Allard  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  leaned 
back. 

"Were  you  going  somewhere?"  he  asked. 
273 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

"Oh,  no;  just  trying  to  avoid  being  bored. 
Every  felicitation,  my  dear  Allard;  that  is  su- 
perb. You  have  nothing  to  fear  from  next  week, 
evidently.  Vasili  told  me  yesterday  that  Dal- 
morov  was  speaking  so  kindly  of  you  that  it 
positively  alarmed  him.  The  baron  praised 
everything  you  had  ever  done,  from  the  time  you 
came  aboard  the  Nadeja  at  New  York.  And  he 
asked  all  manner  of  questions  about  the  trip 
over  and  the  Grand  Duke's  fondness  for  you." 

"Yes?"  Allard  responded  absently.  He  could 
see  an  illuminated  clock  down  the  street,  and  he 
resolved  that  when  the  hand  reached  the  hour 
he  would  defy  Adrian's  order  and  go  in  quest 
of  him. 

"Yes.  A  jealous  animal,  Dalmorov.  New 
family;  the  title  is  only  three  generations  old. 
I  shall  go  to  Paris  next  week ;  he  never  liked  me 
very  much,  and  there  is  a  new  singer  at  the 
Theatre  Fran£ais.  Tiens,  here  is  your  man !" 

Allard  turned  sharply,  catching  his  breath. 
274 


AN   ARABIAN   NIGHT 

Rosal,  who  knew  the  Emperor  so  well, — could  he 
be  deceived?  Certainly  he  could  not  keep  the 
secret  if  it  were  learned,  not  if  the  mines,  exile 
and  sudden  death  itself  awaited  his  disclosure; 
every  club  in  the  capital  could  have  afforded 
tales  of  "ce  bon  bavard  Rosal." 

Adrian  came  through  the  vestibule  and  across 
the  sidewalk  with  absolute  composure.  At  Rosal 
he  barely  glanced  while  raising  his  gloved  hand 
in  conventional  salute  to  the  owner  of  the  car. 

"Good  night,  Rosal,"  Allard  said  pointedly. 

Rosal  did  not  move  from  his  position,  blocking 
entrance  to  the  machine  and  surveying  the  ar- 
rival with  mild  interest. 

"This  is  the  chauffeur  who  drives  over  tKe 
limit  about  once  a  month?"  he  asked,  with  genu- 
ine continental  and  aristocratic  insolence  to  a 
supposed  inferior.  "My  man,  do  not  apply  to 
me  for  a  position  when  your  master  tires  of  you ; 
you  are  too  expensive  a  luxury." 

Adrian  saluted  imperturbably. 
275 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

"He  is  English,  he  understands  no  French," 
Allard  interposed.  "Really,  Rosal,  I  am  in 
haste." 

"The  Emperor  will  want  you  ?  Alisov  told  me 
his  Imperial  Majesty  was  particularly  difficult 
to-day,  so  I  do  not  envy  you.  He  is  never  facile, 
eh?  Once  more,  congratulations." 

Adrian's  white  teeth  flashed  in  the  electric 
light  as  he  averted  his  face  from  the  unconscious 
Rosal  and  entered  the  automobile.  He  was  still 
smiling  under  his  mask  when  he  sent  the  ma- 
chine leaping  forward. 

"I  would  have  given  a  good  deal  to  have  heard 
your  unbiased  reply  to  that,  Allard,"  he  re- 
marked. 

"I  fear  you  would  not  have  been  flattered, 
sire,"  was  the  grim  answer.  "I  have  spent  an  un- 
endurable evening.  Let  me  implore  you  to  return 
to  the  palace." 

"Eventually.  Put  on  your  mask;  we  are  go- 
ing driving." 

Allard  obeyed  in  dumb  protest,  his  powers  of 
276 


AN    ARABIAN    NIGHT 

remonstrance  exhausted,  and  resigned  himself 
to  as  disagreeable  an  hour's  sport  as  he  could 
imagine.  But  it  was  almost  enough  for  the  time 
being  to  feel  his  charge  beside  him  in  compara- 
tive security. 

As  if  impelled  by  perversity,  Adrian  drove 
through  one  swarming  avenue  after  another, 
across  the  square  and  down  the  street  where  the 
morning's  attack  had  taken  place,  swinging 
finally  into  the  dark,  deserted  park.  Too  early 
in  the  season,  too  late  at  night,  for  promenaders, 
the  quietness  here  was  in  vivid  contrast  to  the 
scenes  just  left. 

Tired  out  by  excitement  and  strain,  bearing 
the  constant  aching  regret  for  Stanief's  setting 
star,  Allard  had  been  gradually  lulled  into  mes- 
meric quiescence  by  the  shifting  lights  and  shad- 
ows. And  by  a  freak  of  exhausted  nerves,  it  was 
old  things  thrust  out  of  sight  for  years  which 
took  shape  out  of  the  dark  and  dragged  their 
ugliness  before  him  in  a  strange  waking  night- 
mare. He  forgot  the  risk  of  accident,  the  dan- 
277 


THE   GAME   AND   THE    CANDLE 

gcr  of  the  return  through  the  city,  but  he  saw 
Desmond's  rugged  face  framed  in  the  doorway 
of  the  cottage  above  the  Hudson  and  felt  the 
anguish  of  the  abandonment  to  worse  than 
death.  Pictures  of  his  trial  rose  persistently,  de- 
tails of  the  intolerably  bitter  months  of  prison 
lashed  his  pride. 

"You  spoke?"  Adrian's  cool  voice  broke  in. 

"Pardon,  sire;  an  old  pain  caught  my 
breath." 

Unnoticed  by  one  of  its  passengers,  the  auto- 
mobile increased  its  speed,  rocking  softly  from 
side  to  side,  leaping  with  cat-like  lightness  the 
inequalities  of  the  road.  One  might  have  im- 
agined that  the  driver  also  fled  from  his  own 
thoughts  through  the  empty  parkways.  Allard 
saw  nothing;  here  in  the  heart  of  Europe,  by 
the  Emperor's  side,  the  hateful  gray  walls  had 
closed  around  him  and  he  relived  the  unlivable. 
He  was  stifling,  suffocating,  with  the  sweet 
spring  air  singing  past  like  a  strong  wind. 

A  sharp  whistle  pierced  above  the  whining 
278 


purr  of  the  motor,  a  shouted  command.  AUard 
started  up,  bewildered,  and  the  black  mood  fell 
from  him  as  a  muffling  garment  cast  aside.  They 
had  emerged  again  into  the  city,  at  the  same 
gait. 

"The  police,  sire,"  he  warned  reproachfully. 
"We  must  stop." 

"I  will  not.  Let  them  try  to  catch  us." 

"They  will  know  the  car." 

"Then  we  will  pay  the  fine,  to-morrow.  If 
they  threaten  worse  I  will  pardon  you." 

The  irony  of  that  might  have  brought  Al- 
lard's  laugh  if  he  had  not  been  distracted  by  the 
view  ahead. 

"Not  possible,  sire ;  there  is  a  regiment  cross- 
ing at  the  head  of  the  square.  If  we  are  ex- 
amined— " 

Adrian  sullenly  shut  off  the  power  and  came 
to  a  standstill.  He  had  no  desire  to  have  his 
amusement  ended  and  made  an  anecdote  all  over 
the  Empire. 

"Tell  them  you  are  on  my  affairs,"  he  directed, 
279 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

as  the  two  pursuing  officers  galloped  toward 
them.  "Or  anything  you  choose.  I  will  not  go 
through  a  police  station  farce  to-night,  do  you 
understand?" 

Allard  did  laugh  that  time,  the  relief  of  wak- 
ing to  reality  still  tingling  in  his  veins. 

"Then  I  must  go  alone,  if  they  insist.  May  I 
ask  to  take  the  driver's  seat  and  claim  his  re- 
sponsibility ?" 

"For  what?  They  would  take  the  machine. 
Do  you  expect  me  to  walk  alone  to  the  palace?" 

"Good  heavens,  no!"  Allard  exclaimed  vehe- 
mently. 

The  two  riders  came  panting  up  as  Adrian  re- 
plied with  an  expressive  shrug. 

"You  are  under  arrest,  messieurs,"  was  the 
crisp  announcement. 

Allard  leaned  out  into  the  light  of  the  street 
lamp,  taking  off  his  mask  and  shaking  his  coat 
unbuttoned  from  top  to  bottom.  Perhaps  a 
memory  of  Rosal's  admiration  prompted  the  last 
move. 

280 


AN   ARABIAN   NIGHT 

"For  over-speeding?"  he  Inquired  sweetly. 

"Certainly ;  monsieur  was  going  at  least  forty 
miles  an  hour." 

"Ah,  but  my  errand  was  important.  I  am 
Monsieur  Allard,  of  the  household  of  his  Im- 
perial Majesty." 

John  Allard's  name  was  linked  with  Stanief's 
on  every  tongue  in  the  capital  that  night.  More- 
over, he  stood  up  as  he  spoke  and  his  coat  fell 
apart,  revealing  the  confirming  luster  of  jewels 
and  his  elaborately  careful  dress. 

"We  are  desolated,  Excellency,"  the  man 
stammered. 

"Oh,  you  were  quite  right,  but  I  assure  you 
that  it  would  be  a  mistake  to  carry  this  further. 
I  am  on  an  errand  for — some  one  not  to  be  ques- 
tioned. Just  fail  to  remember  that  you  saw  me, 
and  there  will  be  no  trouble." 

He  held  out  a  hand  in  which  a  yellow  coin 
gleamed  alluringly.  The  officer  coughed,  and 
stooped. 

"Yes,  Excellency.  Graciously  excuse  our  stu- 
281 


THE   GAME   AND   THE   CANDLE 

pidity;  it  is  true  that  the  light  misled  us  as  to 
the  speed  of  your  Excellency's  car." 

"Exactly.   Good  night." 

"Good  night,  Excellency." 

"Allard,  Allard,"  drawled  Adrian,  throwing 
his  levers,  "bribery  and  deception!  And  under 
my  eyes." 

"I  obeyed  orders,  sire,"  he  retorted  demurely. 
"May  I  drive?" 

"La  belle  excuse!  However,  I  admit  the  co- 
ercion. No,  you  may  not  drive;  I  will  consider 
your  reputation  the  rest  of  the  way." 

This  time  they  turned  home,  at  a  more  modest 
pace.  Again  they  ran  the  gauntlet  of  the  bril- 
liant, sullen  streets,  and  Allard's  heart  lost  a 
beat  with  each  halt  made  necessary  by  the  crowd 
or  each  glance  from  the  knots  of  men  gathered 
on  the  corners.  At  the  sleepy  garage  they  at 
last  arrived,  and  left  the  automobile. 

It  was  but  a  short  distance  to  the  palace,  and 
they  walked  in  silence  until  almost  before  the 
door,  when  Adrian  paused  for  an  instant. 
282 


AN    ARABIAN   NIGHT 

"You  guard  me  90  carefully,  with  so  much 
energy,  my  inconsistent  Allard,"  he  observed, 
the  lighter  manner  of  the  last  hours  hardened 
into  his  usual  coldness.  "Have  you  then  not 
thought  what  it  would  mean  to  your  beloved  Re- 
gent if  I  were  removed?" 

"Sire,  if  I  thought  of  that  it  would  be  to 
guard  you  with  double  care,"  Allard  flashed, 
shocked  and  deeply  wounded.  "  Surely  I  owe  so 
much."  And  after  a  moment,  recovering  a  little, 
"For  that  matter,  even  the  Baron  Dalmorov  ad- 
mits the  protection  that  the  Regent  draws 
around  your  Imperial  Majesty.  Sire,  if  the 
Grand  Duke  planned  treason,  has  he  not  had 
ample  opportunities  before  now?" 

"Are  you  trying  to  convince  me  that  some  one 
still  exists  who  possesses  a  sense  of  duty?" 

"Perhaps  you  will  more  readily  credit  a  sense 
of  honor,  sire." 

"Perhaps.  So  it  is  a  point  of  honor  to  take 
care  of  me  ?" 

"Yes,  sire." 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

Adrian  turned  and  went  on  without  com- 
ment. The  guard  at  the  door  saluted  Allard 
without  regarding  the  uninteresting  figure  of 
the  chauffeur,  and  they  passed  into  the  safety 
of  the  palace. 

When  they  were  once  more  in  the  little  salon 
and  had  slipped  off  their  wraps,  the  impression 
seized  Allard  that  his  companion  was  rather 
pale  and  fatigued.  Either  from  the  pallor  or 
from  recent  excitement  Adrian  looked  younger 
than  usual  as  he  stood  pushing  back  the  dark 
hair  disordered  by  his  mask,  and  the  watcher 
was  pierced  by  remorse  and  something  of  Stan- 
ief's  wide  pity  for  the  one  so  warped  by  circum- 
stance and  environment.  Very  kind  to  him  the 
Emperor  had  been,  the  Emperor  who  next  week 
would  send  away  the  only  two  men  who  cared  for 
him  and  stand  splendidly  desolate  in  his  treach- 
erous court.  The  pathos  of  it  beat  down  resent- 
ment. And  being  transparent,  Allard's  gray 
eyes  betrayed  the  softened  thoughts  as  they 
encountered  the  other's. 

284 


AN   ARABIAN   NIGHT 

"Well?"  Adrian  questioned,  as  if  to  a  spoken 
phrase. 

"You  will  not  believe  me,  sire,  but — I  would 
guard  you  if  nothing  compelled." 

Adrian  made  a  movement  of  surprise,  then 
smiled  at  Allard  with  almost  his  cousin's  charm- 
ing grace. 

"Why  should  I  not  believe  you,  who  are  truth 
itself?  Thank  you,  Allard.  Pray  come  with  me ; 
it  is  time  to  rest,  I  fancy." 

Allard  hurriedly  put  away  their  motoring 
garments,  and  presently  they  went  from  the 
room. 

But  the  Emperor  was  not  one  around  whom 
gentle  illusions  long  could  cling;  sword-like  he 
slipped  through  such  gauzy  fabrics.  As  they 
parted  for  the  night  he  regarded  Allard  keenly, 
with  even  a  suggestion  of  amused  cruelty. 

"If  you  have  found  me  indecorously  frivolous 

to-night,"  he  said,  "remember  how  near  we  are 

to  next  week.   It  will  be  a  robust  sense  of  honor 

that  survives  next  week,  Allard.    You  can  not 

285 


THE    GAME   AND   THE    CANDLE 

conceive  how  earnestly  I  desire  my  day  for 
which  I  have  waited  so  long." 

Allard  stiffened  to  the  rigidity  of  self-control ; 
comprehending  all  the  allusion  to  Stanief,  he 
found  no  reply  he  dared  give. 


286 


CHAPTER 

THE   LAST   WEEK 

AS  the  first  week  of  the  regency  had  been,  so 
the  last  week  was  a  dazzling  confusion,  a 
series  of  gorgeous  pageants,  a  riot  of  semi- 
Eastern  splendor. 

But  if  this  last  held  all  the  rejoicing  and 
glory  of  the  commencement  of  a  new  reign,  it 
held  also  the  deep  regret  and  dread  of  the  pass- 
ing of  a  tested  security.  The  Empire  loved  Stan- 
ief  with  grateful  fervor,  it  feared  Adrian.  Even 
in  the  court  were  those  who  foresaw  a  return  to 
old  disaster  in  the  rule  of  the  unguided  and  wil- 
ful young  sovereign. 

Yet  before  Stanief's  own  will  all  these  ele- 
ments were  helpless.  The  court  party  proper 
triumphed,  because  the  others  lacked  a  leader. 
Dalmorov  and  his  followers,  the  officials  held  to 
287 


strict  account  under  Stanief's  stern  government, 
the  officers  and  ministers  deprived  of  bribes  and 
pillage,  the  jealous  and  chafing  nobles,  all  these 
turned  in  snarling  glee  to  watch  the  fall. 

Through  all  the  chaos  Stanief  moved  with  a 
dignity  never  so  great,  carrying  his  head  proud- 
ly above  the  conflict.  Still  the  power  lay  in  his 
grasp,  and  firmly  he  held  the  seething  country 
to  a  semblance  of  calm.  Many  a  shaft  he  re- 
ceived, many  a  veiled  insolence  and  obvious 
taunt,  growing  bolder  as  the  last  beads  slipped 
from  his  chain  and  the  ungenerous  enemies 
feared  him  less ;  but  since  the  day  of  the  attack 
he  had  borne  himself  like  one  who  possesses  a  se- 
cret world  of  his  own. 

By  his  side  Iria  played  her  part,  no  less 
dreamily  radiant.  She  at  least  met  no  bitterness 
except  her  own  knowledge  of  the  coming  change ; 
she  had  offended  no  one,  and  no  one  ventured  to 
annoy  the  Gentle  Princess  whom  Adrian's  love 
might  yet  hold  above  the  wreck.  But  it  was 
noted  as  significant  that  the  Emperor  avoided 


THE    LAST   WEEK 

seeing  either  her  or  her  husband,  so  far  as  pos- 
sible. 

The  night  before  the  coronation,  Allard  es- 
caped from  the  palace  and  went  to  Stanief.  Ad- 
rian had  released  him  earlier  than  usual,  and  he 
was  furious  before  some  new  arrogance  of  the 
victorious  party. 

"It  is  Dalmorov  again,  and  always,"  he  de- 
clared savagely.  "Monseigneur,  I  never  thought 
myself  vindictive,  but  surely  it  is  time  for  his 
reckoning.  You  once  said  you  would  crush  him 
while  you  could;  to-morrow — " 

"To-morrow  I  can  not,"  Stanief  completed. 
"That  is  very  true,  John;  to-morrow  I  can  do 
nothing,  nothing  at  all.  Sic  transit — you  know 
the  rest." 

For  the  first  time  he  had  received  Allard  in 
the  apartments  of  the  Grand  Duchess,  and  Iria 
was  seated  by  her  husband  in  rapt  and  silent 
content.  They  also  had  returned  recently  from 
the  palace ;  the  shining  folds  of  Iria's  court  dress 
lay  over  the  floor  in  billows  of  rose-and-silver ; 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

again  she  wore  the  pearls  whose  tinted  beauty 
echoed  the  soft  luster  of  her  face. 

"To-morrow!"  Allard  exclaimed  impetuously. 
"Monseigneur,  monseigneur,  it  is  a  quarter  to 
twelve!" 

"So  late?  Well,  so  I  would  have  the  day  find 
us:  together.  My  Empire  has  shrunk  to  this 
room,  yet  left  me  a  universe.  For  Dalmorov,  be 
satisfied.  Down  in  my  desk  are  papers  that  can 
send  him  to  a  prison  or  a  scaffold,  as  I  choose. 
I  have  not  been  idle  or  forgetful;  I  thought  of 
you." 

"And  we  waste  time!  We  who  count  min- 
utes," he  sprang  to  his  feet,  afire. 

Stanief  rested  his  head  against  the  back  of 
the  chair,  quieting  the  other's  energy  with  a 
curious  smile. 

"My  dear  John,  I  have  had  those  papers 
for  two  months ;  two  months  ago  I  sent  to  Eng- 
land the  poor  wretch  who  earned  his  pardon  by 
aiding  me  to  get  them." 

Stunned,  Allard  gazed  at  him* 
290 


THE    LAST   WEEK 

"Two  months  ?"  he  repeated.  "Two  months  ?" 

All  the  long  catalogue  of  insults,  annoyances 
and  petty  wrongs  rose  before  him,  the  open  war- 
fare and  secret  insinuations ;  slowly  he  gathered 
comprehension  of  the  singular  expression  with 
which  Stanief  frequently  had  regarded  his  rival 
on  such  occasions. 

"Perhaps  I  liked  to  play  with  him,"  the  level 
voice  resumed.  "Perhaps  I  did  not  care  to  de- 
prive the  Emperor  of  his  companion  while  I  had 
still  so  much  work  to  be  done.  But  I  think  I 
waited  because  of  a  quixotic  dislike  to  using 
my  superior  strength  of  position  against  an  an- 
tagonist; 'to  being  both  accuser  and  judge.  I 
am  not  a  child,  I  have  no  intention  of  letting 
him  escape  and  work  mischief  undisturbed ;  sim- 
ply I  leave  him  to  Adrian's  justice." 

"Then  you—" 

"I  shall  give  the  evidence  to  the  Emperor  after 

the  coronation  and  before  I  leave  the  city.    If 

he  chooses  to  pardon  Dalmorov,  very  good;  my 

part  is  done.    However,  I  would  not  value  the 

291 


baron's  chances  much.  My  cousin  is — my 
cousin." 

"Yes,"  Allard  admitted  reluctantly,  he  too 
knew  the  steel-hard  Adrian.  "Only,  it  seems  a 
pity  to  give  him  to-morrow." 

Stanief  laughed. 

"And  I  fancied  you  Americans  good-natured ! 
Let  Dalmorov  go  with  all  the  glittering  wreck- 
age of  my  regency.  I  have  found  the  better 
part." 

Iria's  little  hand  nestled  into  the  one  held  out 
for  it,  and  there  fell  a  silence.  Allard  looked  at 
them,  then  sighing  turned  his  head.  The  mem- 
ory of  Theodora  caught  at  his  heart,  Theodora, 
who  had  loved  Robert  and  now  grieved  out  her 
marred  life,  alone  amidst  the  unvalued  wealth 
so  hardly  bought. 

From  the  great  cathedral  pealed  the  first  rich 
bell  of  the  chime.  Iria  lifted  her  finger  in  warn- 
ing. 

"Midnight,"  she  said  softly. 

Stanief  rose,  and  drawing  her  with  him, 
292 


THE    LAST    WEEK 

crossed  to  push  aside  the  curtains  before  the 
open  window. 

"Come,"  he  bade  Allard.  "The  last  night  is 
gone.  Look  at  the  city,  John ;  the  board  of  our 
royal  chess,  at  which  I  admit  checkmate." 

Out  over  the  velvet  blackness  studded  with 
myriad  points  of  light  the  three  gazed  quietly. 
Already  faint  rumors  of  carnival  awoke  here 
and  there.  The  capital  stirred  in  its  sleep  with 
dreams  of  the  morning,  the  morning  whose  sun- 
rise would  be  greeted  from  every  fortress  and 
ship  of  the  empire  by  seventeen  guns. 

"Never  did  the  purple-and-gold  sands  slip  less 
regretted  from  the  hour-glass,"  said  Stanief,  no 
faltering  in  the  low  tones  which  an  hour  before 
had  carried  dominion  over  a  nation.  "Only  one 
sorrow  I  have  to-night,  Iria,  when  with  you  and 
John  I  lay  down  the  life  we  know." 

She  leaned  closer  against  his  breast,  as  if  to 
throw  her  frail  body  across  the  gates  of  destiny. 

"And  that  one,  Feodor?" 

"Adrian,"  he  answered.  "So  near  to  my  heart 
293 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

lay  pride  in  proving  my  loyalty,  in  convincing 
him  of  it  and  living  down  the  lying  distrust  sown 
by  his  father  and  the  court,  so  strong  was  my 
determination  to  lift  my  honor  above  disbelief 
and  wear  my  ward's  confidence  as  a  decoration  in 
all  men's  eyes.  And  I  dreamed  of  helping  him 
bear  the  heavy  charge  laid  upon  his  slim  shoul- 
ders. Fancies,  boyish  fancies  wiser  outgrown; 
I  have  learned  better  now." 

"The  world  knows,"  she  whispered. 

"Yes ;  or  will  know.   But  I  loved  Adrian." 

The  quiet  words  fell  with  the  last  distant 
chime  of  bells.  Listening,  it  seemed  to  Allard 
that  no  reproach  leveled  at  the  young  Emperor 
could  be  so  utterly  hard  to  meet  in  the  day  of 
account  as  that  wistful  phrase. 

Yet  the  spell  of  Stanief  s  tolerance  lay  on  him 
also ;  the  picture  before  him  was  not  that  of  the 
familiar,  ruthless  autocrat  under  whom  he  lived, 
but  of  Adrian  as  he  had  stood  in  the  little  salon 
on  the  night  of  the  drive,  pushing  back  his  tum- 
bled dark  hair  with  a  gesture  of  infinite  fatigue. 
294 


CHAPTER  XIX 

ADRIAN'S  DAY 

BRILLIANT  in  blue-and-gold  the  dawn 
opened  over  the  capital.  Scarcely  a 
breath  of  wind  rippled  the  warm  clear  air  of  the 
spring  morning,  a  morning  designed  for  a  coun- 
try bridal  among  the  scented  fields  or  the  waking 
of  wild  furry  creatures  in  the  woods,  and  which 
man  was  seizing  for  such  different  use. 

From  the  first  deafening  salute  of  cannon  that 
ushered  in  the  Emperor's  seventeenth  birthday, 
the  city  was  in  a  tumult  indescribable.  Cavalry 
officers  galloped  through  the  swarming,  flag- 
draped  streets,  gorgeous  carriages  blocked  the 
avenues,  marching  regiments  filled  the  air  with 
military  music.  Congratulatory  messages,  visits 
from  foreign  ambassadors,  enforced  audiences 
and  preparations  for  the  one  great  event,  kept 
295 


THE   GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

both  palaces  in  kaleidoscopic  movement  and 
color. 

The  old  sense  of  unreality  held  Allard  from 
the  moment  when  Vladimir  awakened  him  three 
hours  earlier  than  usual  to  don  a  costume  hither- 
to considered  reserved  for  evening.  His  usual 
duties  were  temporarily  missing,  the  Emperor 
being  formally  attended  to-day  by  those  who  had 
the  hereditary  right  to  that  honor.  Not  that  he 
was  forgotten,  at  which  he  was  surprised  and 
touched,  but  it  was  very  strange  to  be  summoned 
to  Adrian's  bedside  through  an  assembly  of 
grave  nobles  and  to  speak  a  few  brief  words  of 
felicitation  under  a  fire  of  observation  none  too 
friendly.  So  often  he  had  leaned  against  the 
foot  of  that  pillared,  curtained  bed  and  amused 
with  light  chat  of  court  or  club  the  serene  occu- 
pant who  took  his  chocolate  while  listening  in- 
terestedly. 

"Thank  you,  Allard,"  the  Emperor  returned 
only  in  reply  to  his  slightly  confused  speech,  and 
the  American  was  aware  of  the  diverted,  mali- 
296 


ADRIAN'S    DAY 

cious  comprehension  of  his  embarrassment  under 
the  ordeal. 

But  later  he  found  his  place  carefully  ap- 
pointed in  all  the  occurrences  of  the  day,  and 
realized  the  forethought  with  a  gratitude  and 
sense  of  obligation  harder  to  bear  than  neglect. 
Very  difficult  Adrian  was  making  his  determina- 
tion to  follow  Stanief ;  Allard  knew  now  the 
pain  of  serving  two  masters. 

The  morning  proceeded,  the  events  pacing  on 
in  dignified  order.  At  noon  fell  a  pause,  city 
and  court  poised  on  tiptoe,  and  the  magnificent 
procession  moved  from  the  palace  toward  the 
cathedral. 

It  was  all  of  mirage-like  unsubstantiality  to 
Allard:  Adrian,  strangely  young  and  collected 
in  his  superb  medieval  robes,  surrounded  by  his 
glittering  nobles;  Stanief,  hardly  less  dazzling 
than  the  Emperor,  with  gemmed  orders  and  cor- 
dons under  which  his  white  uniform  almost  dis- 
appeared; Irfa  in  her  fairy  royalty,  these  were 
the  central  figures  of  the  pageant.  The  cheering 
297 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

crowds,  the  excitement  and  clamor,  were  merely 
a  background.  But  once  he  met  Dalmorov's 
cruel,  exultant  eyes  as  the  baron  smiled  across 
the  unconscious  Stanief ,  and  there  was  no  more 
beauty  in  the  scene. 

At  last  the  dim.  richness  of  the  cathedral  re- 
ceived them,  the  cool,  incense-freighted  twilight 
of  the  vast  building,  the  wilderness  of  columns 
and  lofty  jeweled  windows.  Here  the  throng  of 
witnesses  was  hushed,  the  organ  tones  fell  sooth- 
ingly after  the  noisy  streets.  The  atmosphere 
of  the  place  was  infinite  calm,  and  each  ancient 
stone  cried  alike  to  victor  and  vanquished  its 
garnered  wisdom :  "This,  too,  shall  pass  away." 

Sighing,  Allard  sank  passively  into  contem- 
plation of  the  spectacle,  Vasili  by  his  side.  Many 
times  he  had  visited  the  cathedral  with  the  Em- 
peror, never  again  would  he  see  it  like  this. 

For  all  its  pomp  and  solemnity,  the  ceremony 

was  not  long.    When  at  last  Adrian  turned  to 

face  them,  fully  invested,  when  church  and  city 

rocked  with  acclamation,  Allard  felt  the  first 

298 


ADRIAN'S    DAY 

thrill  of  realization  of  what  this  meant.  And  he 
knew  there  was  nothing  the  new  sovereign  could 
not  do. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  questioned  Vasili. 
"Why  are  you  so  sober;  why  are  you  so  still? 
Oh,  you  English,  cold  as  a  stone !" 

But  Allard  did  not  hear,  he  was  watching  the 
next  act  in  the  splendid  drama,  when,  as  former 
Regent  and  first  kinsman  of  the  Emperor,  Stan- 
ief  moved  forward  to  offer  his  homage. 

"Not  here,"  Allard  implored  mutely,  his  eyes 
on  the  golden  central  figure,  his  hands  clenched 
with  nervous  dread  for  the  one  he  loved.  "Surely, 
surely  not  even  Adrian  will  hurt  him  here,  be- 
fore these!" 

Perhaps  the  thought  of  just  how  humiliating 
this  could  be  made  was  also  present  in  Staniefs 
mind,  perhaps  some  deeper  emotion,  for  there 
was  no  trace  of  color  in  his  firm  dark  face.  In- 
tent, breathless,  the  church  looked  on  at  the 
meeting,  an  audience  of  courtiers  and  diplomats 
whom  no  slightest  detail  escaped.  In  her  place 
299 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

Iria  laid  one  hand  above  her  heart  where,  under 
velvet  and  satin,  the  tiny^  Spanish  cross  still 
rested. 

It  was  over  very  briefly.  As  Stanief  would 
have  sunk  to  his  knee,  Adrian  made  a  quick  step 
forward  and  prevented  the  movement. 

"Not  to  me,  my  cousin,"  he  said  quietly. 
"Not  now,  at  least."  And  he  embraced  the  other 
with  a  touch  that  lifted  the  formality  to  a  caress. 

The  great  mass  of  people  remained  absolutely 
still.  One  would  have  said  there  was  not  a  breath 
drawn  or  a  garment  rustled.  Stanief  himself 
faltered,  shaken  out  of  his  stoicism  and  flushing 
heavily;  it  was  a  perceptible  moment  before  he 
recovered  and  carried  on  his  role. 

"Nom  de  Dieu!"  gasped  Vasili  faintly,  clutch- 
ing his  companion's  sleeve.  "You  saw,  Allard, 
you  saw?" 

Allard  saw.  He  saw  Stanief's  oath  of  alle- 
giance given  and  received,  he  saw  the  second 
embrace  which  welcomed  it ;  he  heard  the  Em- 
peror's graceful  speech  of  thanks  for  the  long 
300 


ADRIAN'S    DAY 

service  completed  now.  But  no  one  except  Stan- 
ief  himself  caught  the  murmured  answer  to  the 
quaint,  earnest  phrases  of  feudal  loyalty : 

"For  the  second  time,  Feodor." 

And  to  the  listener  the  cathedral  faded  mo- 
mentarily at  the  reminder;  the  rose-hued  salon 
of  the  Nadeja  closed  around. 

The  rest  of  the  affair  passed  more  rapidly. 
Adrian  took  Iria's  hands  as  she  came  to  him  and 
kissed  her  on  both  cheeks.  After  that  the  others 
came  and  went,  the  superb  swirl  and  current 
rushed  on.  Once  only  the  eyes  of  Allard  and 
Stanief  met  across  the  broad  space,  and  if  they 
exchanged  wordless  relief,  they  held  no  other 
feeling  in  common,  for  Stanief  had  never  trusted 
nor  understood  his  cousin  less,  while  Allard  had 
refound  the  Adrian  he  knew — the  Adrian  of 
evening  drives  and  bittersweet  kindness. 

In  the  departure  from  the  cathedral  there 
came  a  brief  confusion  and  rearrangement. 

"You  will  ride  with  me,"  Adrian  said  to  his 
late  Regent,  on  the  steps. 
301 


"Sire—" 

"Take  care;  I  am  too  new  an  autocrat  for 
contradiction." 

So  Irfa  went  surrounded  by  her  butterfly 
ladies,  and  Stanief  rode  by  the  Emperor's  side 
during  that  bewildering  return. 

In  the  streets  there  was  no  high-bred  reserve ; 
seeing  him  there,  the  capital  went  into  a  mad- 
ness of  enthusiasm. 

The  rest  of  the  day,  the  state  banquet,  passed 
in  no  less  dazzling  excitement.  But  in  the  midst 
of  all  Adrian  found  an  instant  to  toss  a  word 
to  Allard. 

"Is  it  'almost,'  or  quite,  to-day?"  he  de- 
manded. 

Happy,  dazed,  uncomprehending  yet  content, 
Allard  met  the  challenging  eyes  in  an  expres- 
sive glance ;  then  for  the  first  time  in  their  years 
together,  he  impulsively  stooped  and  touched  his 
lips  to  the  slim  young  hand. 

"Not  at  all,  sire,"  he  answered  most  remorse- 
fully. 

302 


ADRIAN'S    DAY 

Adrian's  long  lustrous  eyes  opened;  perhaps 
no  conquest  of  the  day  pleased  him  more. 

"Come  to  me  at  five  o'clock,"  he  directed,  and 
passed  on. 

Five  o'clock.  That  hour  had  been  generally 
accepted  through  the  palace  as  the  time  when 
the  Emperor  would  withdraw  to  snatch  a  brief 
rest  before  the  celebrations  of  the  night.  From 
long  custom  Allard  knew  where  the  "come  to 
me"  signified,  and  very  pleasant  he  found  his 
return  to  the  familiar  routine.  Somewhat  before 
the  time  appointed,  he  went  to  the  octagonal  li- 
brary, the  room  now  flooded  with  quivering  pink 
light  from  the  approaching  sunset. 

A  man  turned  from  a  window  at  his  entrance. 

"Ah,  Monsieur  Allard?"  said  Dalmorov's 
thin,  cutting  voice,  "Pardon  that  I  disturb  you, 
dear  monsieur,  but  the  Emperor  requested  me  to 
meet  him  here,  and  so — " 

Allard  surveyed  the  lean  and  suave  diplomat 
with  his  usual  antagonism,  but  moved  toward  a 
chair  instead  of  adopting  the  hint  to  retire. 
303 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

"I  am  here  for  the  same  reason,  Baron,"  he 
explained.  "A  wonderful  day  we  have  had,  have 
we  not?" 

"Wonderful,  indeed,"  Dalmorov  conceded 
viciously.  "But  the  ides  of  March  have  not 
gone,  monsieur." 

"What  a  suggestion  for  our  young  Caesar!" 
Allard  deprecated.  "Whom  do  you  imagine  as 
Brutus,  Baron,  in  our  peaceful  Empire?" 

"You  misunderstood;  I  only  pointed  out  the 
uncertainty  of  building  upon  one  day." 

Anxiety  for  Stanief  stabbed  Allard,  always 
and  only  for  Stanief.  Yet  his  answer  was  light 
and  sympathetic: 

"Has  to-day  disappointed  you?  So  sorry, 
cher  Baron." 

"No,  monsieur;  for  the  event  of  the  day  I 
shall  most  enjoy  is  just  about  to  take  place." 

"And  my  presence  threatens  to  postpone  it? 
It  is  too  bad  I  can  not  do  as  you  suggested,  and 
leave." 

"Not  at  all;  it  will  increase  my  pleasure  to 
304 


ADRIAN'S    DAY 

have  you  here,  Monsieur  Allard.  Meanwhile,  the 
favor  of  princes  is  uncertain,  and  a  frail 
shield." 

Again  that  coldly  triumphant  glance,  the 
tightening  of  the  lines  about  the  thin  lips.  Wil- 
fully Allard  misapplied  the  last  sentence. 

"Oh,  if  my  poor  influence  with  the  Emperor 
can  aid  you,  Baron!  You  know  how  I  esteem 

you." 

The  click  of  the  lock  prevented  the  exasper- 
ated Dalmorov's  retort.  Stanief  held  open  the 
door,  then  followed  Adrian  into  the  room. 
There  was  no  distinction  of  rank  in  the  surprise 
with  which  the  three  men  looked  at  one  another, 
and  from  one  another  to  the  Emperor  who  had 
brought  them  together.  A  thrill  of  startled  ex- 
pectation ran  from  each  to  the  other  like  a 
thread  of  flame. 

Adrian  without  his  muffling  draperies  of 
cloth-of-gold  was  again  the  well-known  figure 
of  every-day.  Yet  there  was  some  subtle  differ- 
ence in  his  bearing,  in  the  carriage  of  his  small 
305 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

head,  which  left  no  doubt  that  the  ceremony  of 
the  morning  had  been  very  real.  It  was  charac- 
teristic that  he  went  to  his  object  without  pre- 
amble or  delay. 

"Feodor,"  he  said  as  he  moved  to  the  large 
central  table,  and  the  languid  sweetness  of  his 
accent  was  a  sufficient  warning  of  danger  to 
those  who  knew  him,  "it  is  unfortunate  to  be 
forced  to  mingle  serious  affairs  with  a  day  al- 
ready so  full,  but  Baron  Dalmorov  urges  so 
vigorously  the  necessity  for  readjusting  the 
government  that  I  have  consented.  You  will 
hardly  believe  that  his  anxiety  leaves  neither  of 
us  an  hour's  repose.  Will  you  assist  us  in  this 
task?" 

"If  I  can,  sire,"  Stanief  answered  gravely. 
The  kitten  was  playing  with  the  mice;  too  well 
had  the  Regent  learned  his  deceptive  ward  for 
him  to  draw  confidence  from  the  Emperor's  cour- 
tesy during  the  day. 

"Who  else,  cousin?"  returned  Adrian,  with 
exquisite  grace.  "Who  can  do  so  well?  How 
306 


ADRIAN'S    DAY 

should  the  country  continue  without  the  wise 
hand  that  has  guided  it  through  these  three 
years?  Pray  reassure  Baron  Dalmorov  by  tell- 
ing him  that  you  will  still  hold  in  fact  the  power 
that  nominally  you  resigned  this  morning,  al- 
ways aided  by  my  loving  support." 

Allard  grasped  the  back  of  a  chair ;  so  much 
even  he  had  never  hoped.  Stupefied,  Dalmorov 
gazed  paling  at  Adrian,  who  leaned  tranquilly 
against  the  table,  his  lips  curved  in  a  very  slight 
cold  smile. 

"If  you  indeed  speak  seriously,  sire,  I  can 
have  but  one  reply,"  Stanief  said.  "Forgive  me 
for  the  doubt." 

"Since  I  have  taught  you  it,  why  not?  But 
the  farce  is  over,  the  game  closed.  Dalmorov, 
pray  attend;  possibly  you  also  may  be  inter- 
ested in  the  explanation  that  my  cousin  asks." 
For  the  first  time  his  glance  went  that  way.  "At 
least  you  best  can  understand  why  this  game 
has  been  played.  For  a  game  it  has  been,  Feo- 
dor.  If  a  cruel  one,  why,  our  race  is  not  gentle 
307 


nor  reared  in  tenderness.  Or  to  truth,  remember 
that ;  your  mother  was  an  Englishwoman.  I  give 
what  I  have  received;  you  alone  ever  gave  or 
asked  of  me  frankness.  Take  it  now,  if  long  de- 
layed." 

He  paused,  his  lashes  fell  as  if  his  gaze  went 
back  and  within.  No  one  moved  or  spoke  as  the 
fire  mounted  visibly  through  his  calm,  shriveling 
his  trained  composure  and  beating  against  his 
self-control. 

"I  love  you,  my  cousin,"  he  said,  the  quietness 
forced  on  his  voice  leaving  it  almost  monotonous. 
"I  loved  you  long  ago  in  my  lonely  childhood, 
when  your  rare  visits  came  like  sunny  flashes 
across  my  dreariness  and  I  used  to  stand  at  my 
window  to  watch  you  ride  by  each  day.  I  had 
no  other  affections  to  distract  me;  I  loved  you 
still,  however  unwillingly,  when  I  went  at  night 
to  the  Nadeja  three  years  ago.  But  you  asked 
me  to  trust  you,  and  my  training  had  left  me 
no  trust  to  give.  Not  that  I  did  not  want  to  trust 
you,  for  I  did  want  to  give  that  with  a  longing 
308 


ADRIAN'S   DAY 

you  scarcely  can  understand;  but  I  could  not, 
then.  Look  back  to  then,  Feodor,  for  the  com- 
mencement of  the  game  ended  now.  Loving  you, 
distrusting  all  alike,  I  listened  to  you  when  you 
were  with  me  and  listened  to  your  enemies  when 
you  were  not,  striving  to  reach  the  fact  beneath 
in  the  only  method  I  have  seen  practised.  There 
could  not  have  been  a  more  unequal  battle,  yet 
at  the  end  of  the  first  year  you  had  won.  You 
and  Allard  had  convinced  me  that  there  did  exist 
men  different  from  my  world.  The  vista  widened 
for  me ;  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  golden  age  with- 
in the  one  I  so  despised,  the  ancient  breath  of 
chivalry  claimed  life  beside  me.  So  the  second 
year  opened.  The  second  year — "  again  the 
cold  glance  swept  Dalmorov.  "How  did  you  em- 
ploy the  second  year,  Baron?" 

"Sire—" 

With  a  shrug  Adrian  turned  from  him;  this 
time  his  eyes  met  his  cousin's  and  held  them. 

"I  have  not  been  happy,  Feodor,"  he  resumed, 
the  control  not  quite  so  perfect.  "For  one  clean 
309 


word  of  yours,  a  thousand  poisonous  speeches 
were  poured  into  my  ears ;  never  a  simple  action 
of  yours  escaped  being  shown  to  me  as  hiding 
some  sinister  motive.  When  you  brought  order 
out  of  the  chaotic  country,  they  explained  that 
you  prepared  your  own  Empire;  when  you  paid 
me  your  grave  deference,  they  told  me  it  was 
used  to  lull  a  fretful  child  until  he  could  be  re- 
moved. When  you  spoke  of  the  day  you  would 
yield  the  sovereignty  to  me,  they  laughed.  You 
guessed  some  of  this?  All  of  it  you  could  not 
conceive,  their  incredible  ingenuity  of  falsehood 
and  false  witness.  And  hate  them  as  I  would,  a 
little  of  the  venom  clung.  When  the  beginning 
of  the  third  year  arrived,  I  stood  alone  and  sur- 
veyed it  all;  older  at  sixteen,  cousin,  than  you 
will  ever  be.  On  one  side  lay  the  reeking  swamp 
they  made  of  life,  on  the  other  the  firm  white 
road  and  you.  And  I  realized  then  that  if  you 
failed  me,  it  would  not  be  an  Empire  I  would 
lose,  but  a  universe  and  a  belief  in  God.  Ask  Al- 
lard  some  day  how  I  spent  last  New  Year's  Eve." 
310 


ADRIAN'S    DAY 

Allard  caught  his  breath ;  clearly  it  stood  out 
in  his  memory, — that  night  when  Adrian  had 
sent  for  him  near  midnight.  "Sleep,  read,  do 
what  you  like,  but  stay  where  I  can  see  you," 
had  been  the  curt  command.  And  when  dawn 
had  opened  grayly  across  the  city,  Adrian  was 
still  pacing  restlessly  up  and  down  the  fire-lit 
room,  his  sorely  puzzled  companion  still  watch- 
ing by  the  hearth. 

"For  many  months  I  had  held  one  hope  of  a 
definite  answer,  Feodor,  a  limit  to  uncertainty. 
'After  the  coronation  I  will  know,'  I  told  my- 
self. 'If  he  lays  down  the  scepter,  they  have 
lied.'  And  Dalmorov  took  from  me  even  that. 

"  'He  will  crown  you,'  he  said,  'because  so 
he  can  keep  the  faith  of  the  people  and  yet  rule 
the  country  through  your  weakness  and  love 
for  him.' " 

Stanief  would  have  spoken,  deeply  moved,  but 
Adrian  checked  him  while  himself  coloring  with 
no  less  emotion. 

"Wait  still  a  little.  I  ask  you  to  remember 
311 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

that  never  have  I  taken  one  step  at  the  sugges- 
tion of  your  enemies  or  at  the  wish  of  this  Dal- 
morov  whom  you  believed  my  friend.  Whichever 
of  us  succeeded  to  Empire,  I  had  the  consola- 
tion of  knowing  he  would  fall.  No  one  has  stood 
between  us ;  alone  I  decided  upon  my  test  and 
made  it,  because  I  had  come  to  the  point  where  I 
must  choose  between  your  world  and  theirs.  I 
have  called  this  a  game — it  was  the  trial  of  a 
faith.  Need  I  say  the  rest?  The  tax  dispute 
gave  the  excuse,  I  feigned  a  break  with  you. 
My  cousin,  now  can  you  measure  the  cost  to 
me  of  the  last  year?" 

He  paused  for  the  answer,  and  finding  it  writ- 
ten in  the  mute  Stanief's  eyes,  went  on  more  hur- 
riedly. 

"No  one  knew  the  truth,  although  Iria  and 
Allard  nearly  tempted  me  to  confidence.  I  de- 
prived you  of  the  faintest  hope  of  peace  with 
me,  I  left  you  to  the  snarling  hate  and  malice 
of  the  court;  I  even  added  to  ingratitude  the 
last  insult  of  menace.  Through  it  all  you  moved 
312 


ADRIAN'S   DAY 

steadily  toward  your  goal,  holding  your  head 

above  us  all.  I  have  learned,  at  last.  If  I  avoided 

IQI 
you,  Feodor,  it  was  because  I  felt  my  courage 

failing  before  yours.  If  I  have  spoken  to  you 
curtly,  it  was  because  I  feared  to  say  this  too 
soon.  If  I  refused  to  see  you  after  the  accident 
last  week,  it  was  because  I  was  sick  with  horror 
at  the  nearness  of  losing  you,  because  I  was  too 
near  to  ending  the  pretense  of  months  just  be- 
fore its  climax.  And  I  had  set  my  heart  on 
standing  with  you,  thus,  and  defying  even  this 
man  to  find  an  accusation  that  you  have  not  an- 
swered. So,"  he  took  a  step  forward  and  passed 
his  hand  through  Stanief's  arm,  the  last  reserve 
swept  away  by  his  own  vivid  energy.  "So,  to- 
gether; now  speak,  Dalmorov,  before  you  leave 
the  capital.  What  selfish  motive  or  hope  led  the 
Regent  to-day  when  he  came  to  me  in  the  cathe- 
dral?" 

At  the  two  Dalmorov  looked,  attempting  no 
reply.   Not  pleasant  to  see  was  his  face  in  that 
moment.  Allard,  quivering,  radiant,  found  room 
313 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

to  pity  the  outgeneraled  and  annihilated  in- 
triguer. 

"Nothing?"  insisted  Adrian,  the  voice  so  gen- 
tle to  his  cousin,  merciless  enough  now.  "Noth- 
ing? Feodor,  you  see  my  plaything;  never 
again  rate  me  so  low  as  to  credit  me  with  such  a 
favorite.  The  man  who  aspired  to  hold  your 
place ;  who  fancied  us  both  victims  of  his  clumsy 
intrigues ;  the  man  who  never  even  perceived  the 
contempt  and  dislike  I  scarcely  troubled  to  con- 
ceal, look  at  him.  Dragged  from  his  shadows 
into  the  sun,  facing  you,  he  has  no  longer  one 
falsehood  to  offer." 

"Sire,"  interposed  Stanief  for  very  compas- 
sion, himself  unsteadied  by  the  happiness  that 
makes  generosity  easy. 

Adrian  turned  on  him  swiftly. 

"You?  You,  Feodor?  Oh,  it  needed  but  that! 
Thank  the  Grand  Duke  for  his  intercession, 
Baron  Dalmorov,  and  go." 

The  last  humiliation  was  too  much.  Sallow 
with  defeat  and  bitter  mortification,  Dalmorov 
314 


ADRIAN'S    DAY 

collected  himself  to  strike  the  only  one  within 
reach,  the  one  through  whom  alone  he  could 
wound  the  others. 

"If  it  has  pleased  your  Imperial  Majesty  to 
misunderstand,  I  may  not  say  misuse,  my  devo- 
tion, I  must  submit,"  he  said  tremulously.  "I 
can  do  nothing  else." 

"No,  I  think  not." 

"Yet  permit  me  to  give  a  last  service  due  to 
respect  for  my  sovereign.  My  defense  I  leave 
to  time.  This  nameless  American  whom  it  has 
pleased  his  Royal  Highness  to  place  near  your 
person,  sire,  is  not  fit  for  such  an  honor.  Rather 
he  should  be  in  the  mines." 

Stanief  started  violently,  his  eyes  flashing 
to  Allard,  who  kept  his  pose  with  a  serenity 
drawn  from  utter  helplessness. 

"Take  care,  Dalmorov,"  Adrian  cautioned 
sternly. 

The  baron  bowed. 

"Sire,  some  months  ago  chance  called  me  to 
this  investigation.  There  passed  through  the 
315 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

city  a  gentleman  who  had  visited  the  California 
Allards  a  year  before  this  man  came  here.  The 
visitor  declared  that  this  was  not  the  Allard  he 
knew,  and  no  other  member  of  the  family  had 
alluded  to  another  absent  one.  Naturally  anx- 
ious and  alarmed,  I  searched  further.  The  of- 
ficers of  the  Nadeja  admitted  that  no  one  had 
seen  the  new  secretary  until  one  night  his  Royal 
Highness  brought  him  hurriedly  aboard,  while 
the  yacht  lay  opposite  an  American  prison.  At 
the  exact  hour  of  his  arrival,  the  alarm  was 
raised  on  shore  of  the  escape  of  a  convict.  It  is 
a  singular  coincidence,  sire." 

"It  is  very  uninteresting,  Baron.  What  of 
it?" 

"Sire,  only  loyalty  could  make  me  continue. 
I  obtained  some  journals  of  that  date  and  a  lit- 
tle later.  The  prisoner  who  escaped  was  not 
recaptured ;  and  out  in  California  the  gentleman 
died  whose  honorable  name  this  man  claims.  Give 
me  time,  long  enough  to  send  to  America,  and 
I  can  find  proof  that  your  Imperial  Majesty's 
316 


ADRIAN'S    DAY 

favorite  companion  is  the  prisoner  Leroy  mas- 
querading as  one  who  is  not  living  to  contradict 
him.  Why  the  Grand  Duke  placed  him  here,  it 
is  not  for  me  to  say." 

Twice  Stanief  had  moved  to  speak,  and  each 
time  the  restraining  hand  on  his  arm  had  im- 
posed silence. 

"Hush,  Feodor;  this  is  my  affair,"  Adrian 
said,  divining  the  rebellion  at  this  last  before 
it  could  take  speech.  "Baron  Dalmorov,  with 
time  you  could  no  doubt  make  any  proofs  you 
desire;  I  have  seen  it  done.  We  close  this  sub- 
ject to-day.  Are  you  willing  to  relieve  the 
baron's  cares,  Allard?" 

So  near  the  truth,  and  yet  so  far  from  it,  had 
the  accusation  gone.  It  was  not  of  himself  Al- 
lard thought  at  the  moment,  but  of  Stanief, 
Stanief,  who  had  protected  him  and  who  must 
be  shielded  from  the  consequence. 

"Sire,  I  am  John  Allard,"  he  replied,  giv- 
ing that  fact  with  the  appeal  of  sincerity.  "The 
Allard  to  whom  Baron  Dalmorov  refers  was  my 
317 


THE    GAME   AND   THE    CANDLE 

brother  Robert.  For  the  rest,  it  is  perfectly  true 
that  I  was  not  in  California  the  year  before  I 
came  here.  The  American  who  did  not  recog- 
nize me  was  of  course  my  brother's  guest  during 
my  absence." 

"You  do  not  comprehend,"  Adrian  corrected 
sweetly.  "I  never  intended  to  ask  you  to  defend 
yourself  against  this  chain  of  absurdities.  I  do 
not  admire  your  assailant's  methods,  and  I  adopt 
my  own.  I  would  ask  if  both  you  and  Dalmorov 
will  be  content  with  the  evidence  of  a  witness 
who  knew  the  California  Allards  beyond  dis- 
pute." 

"Certainly,  sire,"  he  answered,  wondering, 
yet  welcoming  any  course  that  led  them  from 
New  York. 

"Sire,  if  any  Calif ornian  identifies  this  man, 
of  course  my  case  fails,"  conceded  Dalmorov 
with  his  bitter  smile.  "But,  it  will  not  be  so." 

"Pray  ring  the  bell,  Allard,  twice,"  directed 
Adrian. 

They  waited  in  silence.  Adrian  moved  to  a 
318 


ADRIAN'S    DAY 

chair.  Stanief  sought  Allard's  eyes  with  the 
steadying  message  of  his  own,  an  intensity  of 
reassurance  and  protection.  In  reserve  he  was 
holding  his  own  power  to  ruin  Dalmorov,  and 
he  fiercely  reproached  himself  with  not  having 
foreseen  and  used  it  before  this  could  have  hap- 
pened. 

But  Allard  showed  no  agitation  to  his  keen 
watchers.  It  seemed  to  him  that  this  had  been 
closing  around  him  for  days,  that  he  had  felt 
the  old  things  reclaiming  him  as  the  unseen  net 
drew  and  tightened.  Now  there  was  nothing  he 
could  do;  the  moment  balanced,  ready  to  fall 
either  way  at  the  light  touch  of  chance.  Away 
from  himself  he  laid  the  decision,  before  a  higher 
tribunal  than  Adrian's,  setting  all  his  life 
against  one  error.  The  speech  of  his  thought 
was  the  same  as  it  once  was  on  the  wharf  before 
the  Hudson  prison:  "If  I  have  paid — "  Quiet- 
ly, with  a  dignity  all  unconscious,  he  awaited  the 
j  udgment. 

A  rustle  of  silken  garments,  a  silver  echo  of 
319 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

a  southern  voice  as  the  door  opened,  and  Iria 
was  in  the  room,  Iria,  flushed,  smiling,  and  by 
her  side  a  girl  in  white  whom  two  of  those  pres- 
ent had  never  seen.  As  the  Duchess  swept  her 
graceful  salute  to  the  Emperor,  Allard's  cry 
rang  through  the  place : 

"Theodora !   Theodora !" 

His  answer  was  given.  The  girl  held  out  her 
hands  as  he  sprang  forward  to  clasp  them ;  there 
existed  no  one  else  for  either  during  the  long 
moment  when  they  remained  gazing  in  each 
other's  eyes  with  the  hunger  of  years. 

Smiling,  Adrian  moved  forward  a  chair  for 
Iria,  whispering  a  phrase  in  passing  which  sent 
the  light  blushes  to  her  forehead  as  she  glanced 
shyly  at  Stanief .  Then,  Theodora  slipping  her 
fingers  from  Allard's  with  confused  recollection 
of  their  situation,  the  Emperor  claimed  her 
attention. 

"Mademoiselle  Leslie,  let  me  present  to  you 
the  Baron  Sergius  Dalmorov,  formerly  of  this 
court.  And,  since  he  appears  suffering  under  a 
320 


There  existed  no  one  else  for  either       Page  320 


ADRIAN'S    DAY 

strange  misconception,  do  me  the  favor  of  in- 
forming him  who  is  the  gentleman  whom  you 
have  just  greeted." 

Evidently  Theodora  knew  Adrian,  for  she  an- 
swered his  smile  with  trustful  friendliness  while 
acknowledging  the  introduction. 

"Monsieur  le  Baron,  I  am  charmed,"  she  said 
in  her  pretty,  hesitating  French.  "This  is  my 
cousin,  John  Leslie  Allard,  whom  I  have  not 
seen  for  many  years.  We  grew  up  together; 
and  in  the  pleasure  of  meeting  him  again — " 

"Thank  you,  mademoiselle,"  interposed  Ad- 
rian. "Let  me  complete  the  aid  to  your  halting 
memory,  Dalmorov,  and  recall  in  Monsieur  Al- 
lard my  loyal  friend  of  three  years'  trial,  the 
gentleman  who  bears  the  scar  and  the  decora- 
tions gained  in  defense  of  my  life  and  my 
cousin's.  Several  months  ago  you  first  hinted 
at  this  attack  on  him.  Knowing  you  very  well, 
I  obtained  the  necessary  details  from  him  under 
a  pretext,  and  myself  wrote  to  Madame  Leslie 
suggesting  that  she  bring  mademoiselle  here  for 
321 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

the  coronation.  A  week  ago  they  arrived  at  the 
Hotel  Anglais,  where  I  had  the  pleasure  of  visit- 
ing them  one  evening."  He  looked  at  Allard  in 
cool  amusement,  but  it  was  something  very  far 
from  amusement  that  rose  in  the  gray  eyes  in 
answer  to  the  memories  of  that  evening.  "We 
explained  a  few  details  to  one  another;  since 
then  they  have  been  the  guests  of  the  Grand 
Duchess,  who  promised  me  secrecy." 

"I  did  not  even  tell  you,  Feodor,"  murmured 
Iria  plaintively. 

"Feodor  will  forgive  you,"  assured  Adrian. 
"Baron  Dalmorov,  you  have  our  permission  to 
retire  from  the  capital  at  once;  you  are  not 
suited  for  court  life.  Unfortunately  you  have 
broken  no  laws.  I  wish  most  sincerely  that  it 
were  in  my  power  to  find  some  excuse  for  punish- 
ing you  as  I  should  enjoy;  I  have  no  doubt  at 
least  one  exists.  But  you  may  go,  and  in  future 
avoid  the  same  city  with  me.  That  is  all ;  I  have 
waited  a  long  while  for  to-day." 

Stanief  turned  to  Allard,  then  expressively 
322 


ADRIAN'S    DAY 

regarded  the  man  who  moved  almost  gropingly 
toward  the  door. 

"Shall  I  give  the  excuse  ?"  the  glance  asked. 

And  AUard's  impulsive  gesture  answered. 

"Has  he  not  enough?"  flashed  the  mute  re- 
turn. 

The  door  closed  gently. 


CHAPTER  XX 

CLOSED 

BEYOND,  the  marble  arches,  the  brilliancy, 
the  color  and  movement  of  the  vast  ball- 
room ;  here,  the  perfumed  dusk  of  the  conserva- 
tory's mimic  garden,  lighted  by  tiny  jeweled 
lamps  hung  among  the  flowers.  And  over  both 
atmospheres  the  dreamlike  enchantment  of  the 
strange  national  music  that  Adrian  loved.  Sigh- 
ing, Allard  leaned  forward,  his  eyes  delighting 
in  contemplation  of  the  girl  opposite. 

"To  see  you  like  this !  Theodora,  I  have  so 
sorrowfully  pictured  you  as  changed,  as  grieved 
and  saddened  out  of  the  brightness  I  so  longed 
to  keep  for  you.  And  you  are  the  same,  always 
the  same,  dear." 

She  smiled,  half-tenderly,  half  in  indulgent 
mockery. 

324 


CLOSED 

"But  I  am  not  the  same,  nor  are  you,  John. 
I  am  twenty-five  instead  of  nineteen,  and  much 
wiser  than  Theo  Leslie  used  to  be.  While  you — 
his  excellency  Monsieur  Allard  of  the  imperial 
household,  is  somewhat  older  and  much  more  dig- 
nified, and  a  trifle  more  interesting.  When  I  see 
you  moving  through  this  court  with  so  much 
ease,  in  all  your  gorgeousness  so  naturally 
worn," — she  made  a  laughing  gesture  to  the 
gemmed  orders — "I  think — I  think  perhaps  it  is 
well  we  have  both  grown." 

The  truth  of  the  judgment  held  him,  and  sent 
a  startled  hope. 

"If  we  have  grown  nearer,  Theo  ?" 

"I  have  tried  to  say — that.  Can  you  guess 
how  mamma  and  I  have  followed  you  through 
scattered  newspaper  articles  and  items  of 
European  news?  How  we  rejoiced  and  cried  to- 
gether when  you  saved  the  Emperor  from  death 
and  were  yourself  wounded,  when  your  name 
was  everywhere?  You  wrote  so  seldom,  and  never 
to  me." 


THE    GAME    AND    THE    CANDLE 

"I  thought  you  must  hate  me  for  leaving  Rob- 
ert ;  I  never  forgot  that." 

Her  vivid  face  grew  serious,  her  eyes  fell  to 
the  fan  in  her  lap. 

"I  could  never  have  felt  so,  whatever  you  had 
done.  John,  the  last  morning  he  spoke  to  us, 
Robert  said  that  for  us  you  had  made  a  sacrifice 
we  could  not  even  conceive.  He  told  us  that  we 
must  never  question  you  nor  seek  to  know,  but 
that  you  were  above  all  blame.  Perhaps  I  had 
already  guessed  you  were  not  happy,  remember- 
ing the  night  before  you  went  away." 

"There  was  never  one  like  Robert,"  he  said, 
gratitude  a  pain.  "Theodora,  I  never  wondered 
that  you  loved  him." 

She  stirred,  the  faint,  familiar  sweetness  of 
sandalwood  and  rose  was  shaken  from  her  laces 
by  the  movement;  wide  and  very  soft  were  the 
eyes  she  lifted  to  his. 

"I  did  not  love  him,  as  you  meant.  John, 
John,  you  were  wrong." 

The  conservatory  wavered  before  his  gaze; 
he  rose  impetuously  and  she  with  him. 
326 


CLOSED 

"Wrong?  Then—" 

"You,  John.  Oh,  could  you  not  tell  a  girl's 
playmate  from  her  lover?  Robert  read  the  truth ; 
and  I  believe  he  was  glad.  John — " 

Slowly,  almost  fearfully,  he  drew  her  to  his 
arms. 

"Wrong!  Oh,  Theo,  it  has  all  been  wrong, 
and  the  fault  mine!  That  out  of  it  all  should 
come  to-day,  my  dear,  my  dear." 

Presently  she  slipped  from  him,  starrily  radi- 
ant, leaving  her  hands  in  his  as  she  looked  up. 

"Do  you  know  how  I  found  courage  to  tell 
you  this,  John?" 

"You  knew  I  loved  you  all  my  life." 

"But  it  was  so  very  long,  so  very  long;  you 
might  have  forgotten  or  changed.  No,  it  was 
because  the  night  he  came  to  our  hotel,  the  Em- 
peror told  me  that  you  cared  for  me  still.  'That 
is  why  I  brought  you  here,  mademoiselle,'  he 
said.  'What  he  gives  once,  he  gives  for  ever, 
this  Allard  of  ours.'  And  so  I  ventured." 

Allard  looked  out  across  the  flower-draped 
arches  to  the  ball-room  beyond.  Stately,  self- 
327 


THE    GAME   AND    THE    CANDLE 

contained,  Stanief  was  moving  down  the  floor 
between  the  parting  throngs  of  guests,  the 
gently  glad  Iria  at  his  side.  From  his  seat  Ad- 
rian leaned  forward  to  watch  them,  his  keen, 
dark  young  face  softened  to  a  great  content. 

"When  we  do  wrong,  sometimes  we  are  al- 
lowed to  make  our  payment,  if  we  try,"  he  said 
dreamily.  "But  how  can  we  pay  our  debt  of 
unearned  happiness,  Theodora?" 

Smiling,  she  drew  nearer. 

"You  have  the  man's  justice,  John;  now 
learn  the  woman's  art  of  graciousness.  Unques- 
tioningly  let  us  accept  our  gifts." 

He  turned  to  her,  flushing,  and  took  her 
hands. 

"It  is  that!  Thank  you,  Theo.  The  account 
is  closed ;  the  rest — commences." 


THE    END 


A   000111010   5 


